Interlude
by nightblight
Summary: Okay this originally started as an entry into a drabbleathon last year, and has blossomed. All episodes are fair game, though it focuses primarily on the season finale of season 6 will move eventually when finished through to the end of season seven. GSR
1. Chapter 1

It's rated K

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing… CBS has the magic wand. All of the boo-boos are mine… didn't have this beta'd.

This is pure fluff in answer to a list's drabble a thon – I know I blew the designated 100 word drabble limit by about 392 words, but I did get _slap_ into it…

**Interlude**

By: Nightblight

The guy on the tracks was easily dead and horrifically thin.

"I need you to go back with the body." Grissom eyed her speculatively.

"You called me out here, made me walk half a mile, and climb that hill over there…" She pointed to the steep embankment on the other side of the tracks, "at risk to life and limb, so I could follow the body back to the morgue with David?"

Her boss nodded tightly.

"I was at the lab… the morgue is downstairs…"

"I uh… I need your light, too…" He added by way of explanation.

Sensing the mounting tension, David helped his assistant load the body into the bag and onto a stretcher, before waving to the two CSIs. "I'll hold the post until you get there…" He told the slim dark haired woman, who he was expecting to shoot flames from her eyes at any moment. Best to get out of the line of fire, he muttered to himself before grasping one end of the stretcher and tugging it along the loose gravel.

Sara watched as David, and the thin black man led body away, the wheeled stretcher bouncing wildly behind them.

"You need my lamp?"

Grissom's hand went to his beard and he rubbed it absently. "I do…"

A knowing sigh escaped her lips and she turned and started back to where she'd come from, a solemn entomologist following silently behind her.

The gravel from the dirt road crunched madly as the coroner's van scooted away leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. There was a gentle slap of water along the shallow river shoreline off to the left of the little used road.

The trunk released with a click as Sara hit the remote to her personal vehicle. Side by side they stared into the crammed space for a moment before Sara turned and leaned against the bumper her eyes falling on the pained expression of the man beside her. There was no one around, so she slipped her hand into his. "He's going to be okay, you know…"

Grissom squeezed her slender fingers in his, and nodded. "I know." The next words caught in his throat, but he forced them out, a hoarseness permeating them. "I'm scared."

"I know…" She smiled sadly, before standing up and drawing him into a much needed embrace. It crossed all of the boundaries they had set in place, but it felt right.

She had expected him to pull away from her, but was pleasantly surprised when he tugged her into a possessive kiss, and then released her, resting his head against her own. "I love you…" He whispered.

"I love you, too… and everything will be fine." She assured him, before backing away an appropriate distance, and grasping the light from the trunk. "Next time…" She passed her lover the lamp, her hand brushing against his as he took it. "Just tell me you want to see me…"

The end... unless you want me to continue...


	2. Chapter 2

Rated K

This is in response to today's newest drabble challenge. Let me first say I followed my last theme and continued the story. However, I am terrible at drabble, because I blew the word count all to crap again. This one didn't hit 500, but it's darn close. (If you don't include this stuff…) I did manage to get rock and roll in though… PS : No beta again - so shoot me if it's brutal.

Disclaimer: not mine – I just took them out to play.

**Interlude 2**

Some rock and roll tune bounced loudly down the hallway and greeted Grissom as he entered the room.

Nick's advice had been to follow the noise, and sure enough it had led him to his prize.

The sound level in the room dropped dramatically in response to some clever manipulation of the volume button, but the young woman in the room didn't even look up.

"McKeane told me you stopped by the hospital." His palm on her shoulder was light, practically non existent, but she reveled in it, like a drug addict getting her first fix of the day.

"Mmmm…" Sara had been busy laying the post mortem pictures out on the table. She'd chosen a different room from the usual, and it was well off the beaten path.

_Why_, was a question that didn't take long to be answered... He could tell by the red rims of her sad chocolate eyes that Brass' shooting had affected her more than she was willing to admit.

"I had to make a decision…" His voice was solemn, resolute even, yet a trace of uncertainty floated to the surface.

The six words he uttered sent an icy chill down her spine, and a crash of reality caused her cool façade to slip slightly. Sara didn't want to know what the decision was. It was just too hard to hear. "Our vic died of a gunshot wound…" She told him, indicating a close up photo of the head. "Nick dropped his samples in trace…"

"They needed to know if I wanted them to operate..." He moved up behind her, and pulled her snuggly against him, breaking one of his own salient rules, yet somehow uncaring of this detail. "He'll be okay…" Grissom whispered reassuringly into the softness of her silky brown hair.

Brass was a lot like a father to her.

"I'm sorry…" One trembling hand came up to wipe away a renegade tear that had managed to escape the hardened pretense she'd developed for just this kind of situation. "I should be the one comforting you…" Her voice hitched slightly.

"We're two parts of a whole, love, and no one's keeping score…" His grip tightened on her, his cheek resting against hers for a moment, absorbing some of the dampness there.

"But I just keep thinking, what if it was…"

"Shhh…" Grissom's breath was warm on the skin of her neck. He knew exactly what it was she was going to say. The very same thought had been drifting through his mind for the entire evening. "I told them to operate. He's a tough son of a… gun… He'll be okay." Reaching behind him, he grabbed the file folder he'd brought with him. "Your results back from trace." Dropping it in front of her, he kissed the top of her head and moved back out into the hallway. "Greg's at the hospital. I gotta go make sure he doesn't get himself kicked out again."


	3. Chapter 3

Rated K

Okay I did it again. Totally blew the word count thing. I admire you all for your ability to be short and concise. It clearly doesn't come easy to me. Did get the drabble word in though.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. But I really like to play with them GSR… as always.

Not betad... all of the mistakes are mine.

Thank you all for your reviews and your kind words.

**Interlude**

By: nightblight

It was no major discovery that Grissom was knowledgeable in the area of corsets; after all he was practically a walking and talking encyclopedia Britannica. But his evasive answer to her question caused a moment of self doubt in the young CSI.

"Okay…" She flipped the folder in her lap shut and stood up, her face impassive as she tried to hide the minute sting his ambiguous answer had caused. Sara knew exactly who his source was. She was a statuesque brunette with green eyes and a vast selection of whips and chains in her collection. Corsets, particularly leather ones, were a staple to her everyday wear. "I'm ah… gonna go and see if I can track down the owner of the… ah clothes."

Turning to leave the slim brunette had made it all of two feet before she felt a thick hand wrap around her wrist. A second hand went out and Sara acquiesced and slipped hers into his. In one smooth motion he had maneuvered her into standing behind him, so if anyone passed by it would simply look like she was reading over his shoulder.

"Are you mad?" He didn't look at her when he asked the question. His eyes still locked on the picture of a man wearing a Victorian corset.

He knew her far too well.

"No…" She didn't exactly lie, she wasn't angry, just disappointed. She thought their relationship precluded senseless secrets. Changing the subject, she gently removed her right hand from his grasp, but allowed her left one to remain resting on his shoulder, fingers laced through his. "Any word on Jim?"

His answer mimicked hers. "No…"

"Well I'd better go and…" Her words were lost when his free hand reached up and drew her face to his. A quick turn of his head and his mouth was on hers, his lips both possessive and apologetic.

Slightly panicked, Sara broke their kiss for fear that someone would see. "Inappropriate behavior for a supervisor, bossman…" She whispered, licking the sweet taste of him off her mouth. Her words though smooth and collected, held a hint of teasing, too.

His eyes drifted to the third finger of her left hand. There was an almost invisible tan line present. "But not for a husband… Mrs. Grissom."

A heavy sigh escaped her chest. "These are your rules, Gris." She said softly.

"So I can break them if I want, then." He looked up at her, exhaustion etched in his handsome features. "I don't want to hide anymore."

She studied him for a moment. "Tell you what." Her fingers squeezed his, and then she carefully pulled away. "We're pretty deep into a quad, add to that the emotional quagmire of a life and death situation and you've got irrationality rearing its ugly head."

"I'm not being irrational." Blue eyes met brown, as he gazed at her seriously.

"I know…" She pursed her lips, the residual warmth of their shared passion still on them. "But give it a week. Just one. When Brass is on his road to recovery, and we've had a few consecutive hours of sleep, you may see things differently."

"No, I won't…"

"Okay… just one week." She reiterated. A light pat on his shoulder and she was headed for the door.

"CSI Sidle."

She turned, and grabbed the folder he held out to her. It had slipped from her grasp and landed on his lap during the heat of their stolen moment.

A second later he reached onto his desk and passed her a single sheet of paper. "I compiled a list of vintage clothing stores. They may have some answers for you."

"Thanks…" She smiled and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Rated K

Okay I did it again. Totally gave up on the word count thing. Did get the drabble word in. Though I have to admit it was a stretch.

Not beta'd so shoot me - just leave some evidence. Thanks for all of the reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. But I really like to play with them. GSR… as always.

**Interlude 4**

By: Nightblight

She peeled the fingerprint from its secret place on the back of the corset. "I'll run it through AFIS when we get back…" She told the two people staring at her.

"Man that looks mighty uncomfortable…" Sofia grimaced minutely and then grabbed her vibrating cell from her pocket. "I'm going to head outside. You're almost done, right?" While the question was directed towards both people in the room, she actually turned to look at Grissom.

"Yup, a few minutes…" He nodded tersely in her direction and then turned his attention to the thin brunette, still labeling the finger print.

She waved it at him before dropping it into a pocket inside her kit. "Hopefully, whoever it belongs to can give us some answers." She told him, before plucking the kit up off the floor.

Grissom stared at her speculatively for a moment and then dived in. "Heather Gray…" There, he'd said it. Let the chips fall where they may…

One well manicured eyebrow popped up and Sara nodded her head. A look of acceptance plastered on her face, as she closed her eyes trying to formulate an answer that didn't betray her true reaction to that name.

"She was the one who…"

"I know…" She cut him off. She didn't need sordid details. By some painful chance of fate she already knew them. "You know – sometimes you're like the guy who gets the punch-line ten minutes after everyone has laughed."

He shrugged hoping that Sara wasn't busy formulating a plan to strangle him with his own wedding band while he slept. She seemed to be taking the revelation fairly well. He decided to go for humor. "Better late than never…" A lopsided grin decorated his bearded visage.

"Any news on Jim?" Sara moved beside him hoping that her cool exterior held fast.

"He's out of surgery, but still unconscious… Are you still mad at me?"

A warm hand gripped her upper arm and squeezed gently before sliding down the length of it to her finger tips, where it stayed holding fast. "At least it's over. Now we get to the fun part… waiting." She pumped his fingers once and let them go, afraid that Sofia might return. "And I was never mad at you." She turned to face him, the only tell tale sign of her true emotions was a flicker of pain that moved behind her eyes.

Heated fingertips smoothed away a random hair, and drew a sensual path along her jawbone. "I hurt you."

A thick sigh escaped her chest. "Not in the way you think you did."

He felt a little like he was he was treading in unexplored waters, one wrong move and you were toast. "In what way, then?" God women were confusing creatures.

"Can't we just forget it?"

"No, Sara… Unconditional disclosure, remember… I'm sure I put it in our vows…"

One thick thumb drew a sensual path along her lower lip.

Instinctively, she nipped it, and feeling immediately guilty, she followed up with a soft kiss. "Then you blew it, bossman…" She stared at him a soft smile on her face, waiting for her point to register.

Confusion marred his handsome face, and he studied her a little like he was trying to decipher a jumbled name on a toe tag, so she let out a soft sigh. Sometimes he could be thicker that a board. "Gris, I was privy to the office gossip when you were seeing her. It wasn't something that I didn't already know, or at least suspect. What hurt, was the fact that you just didn't come out and tell me _when I asked_." She pulled his hand from her chin and dropped her lips to his palm. "Unconditional disclosure works both ways." She told him hefting her kit and leaving the room.

"Touche… Ms. Sidle…" She heard him murmur from behind her, as she made her way out into the scorching Nevada sun.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Rated M

No word count today.

I think the drabble challenge ended yesterday, but I shall continue on, for at least one more chapter.

Not beta'd.

Thanks for all of the reviews; I'm now officially a review ho'.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. But I really like to play with them. GSR… yeah babeee.

**Interlude 5**

Sara had bagged and tagged her samples and was in the midst of packing up. The afternoon was a scorcher and standing in the middle of the bush, absorbing the blistering rays was not the way that she had wanted to spend the day. Her make up had melted off hours ago and her skin, flush with perspiration, had already begun to redden. Not that being at home would have been any better. As exhausted as she was, she doubted that neither she nor Grissom would have been able to sleep. The surgery had been completed hours ago, but Brass was still in a coma.

He hadn't said anything, but the man she shared her life with was tightly wound. He'd maintained a cool exterior throughout the entire ordeal, and had even sported a flash or two of humor, but all that was swiftly waning as they had slipped deeply into their fifth shift. The only up side - he was wearing her favorite hat. It seemed a little wonky and made him look like farmer Joe, but it symbolized a twisted sense of humor that he shared with only a limited few.

Lucky her - she was one of them.

"Sofia's gone back to PD." He'd come up from behind and stood towering above her crouched form. "She said if she stayed out here any longer she was going to suffer heat stroke." Grissom watched his wife speculatively, the stretch of his shadow helping to block the sun as she closed her kit.

Flipping the latches on her case, she turned and grinned up at him. "I think I'm beyond that… In fact, I'm sure I'm going to be glowing red just like a lobster, tomorrow."

"See… You should have worn my hat like I offered. The baseball cap the city provides CSI with offers no protection." He winked at her.

The tall brunette stood up and wiped her hands off on her pants before reaching up to dab a spot of dirt off the tip of his nose. "Uh uh…" She grinned and planted a seductive kiss on his smiling lips. "You look far too cute in it. Why would I deprive myself of the view?"

Moving faster than a man of his size should be able to, he'd picked her up and pinned her against a tree in a matter of seconds, his mouth hungrily plundering hers.

"God you taste so good…" He intoned between jagged breaths, and languid kisses.

Wrapped in each others arms they were lost in the moment, hands gripping and exploring while tongues wrestled playfully.

The trees and bushes around them provided adequate cover and the battle was far enough away that none of the participants would be privy to their private ministrations.

"You are so bad, Doctor Grissom."

"I thought you liked that about me… Mrs. Grissom." He whispered into her mouth.

"Shhh… someone might hear you…" She moaned, as his hands massaged one of her more sensitive spots.

"Only the bugs, love, and they promised not to tell."

Sara snickered, and pushed lightly on his chest. "Let's get out of here, before we get totally carried away, and can't stop."

"Too late…" He claimed her mouth again, evidence to his words pressing solidly up against her taut belly.

"You are going to get us both in trouble…" Sara warned, a rush of heat already messing with the more rational side of her brain.

"Don't care..." His mouth traced a ravenous path along her jaw.

"We'll be arrested for indecent exposure and lewd misconduct." She moaned, her resistance slipping.

"_Really_ don't care…" His tongue lapped at hollow spot sitting at the base of her neck.

She was salty and sweet and deliciously Sara.

"Oh… God…" Another groan escaped her lips.

Two hands came up and settled on either side of her face. "I want to make love to you."

I wasn't a want. Sara could tell by the darkening desire reflected in his eyes. It was a need, one that was evenly matched by her own at the moment. "Here?"

Grissom nodded.

"Up against a tree…?" She teased, knowing she couldn't no more deny him, than she could herself.

"Yes…" He waited for her agreement.

"This is _so_ going to cost you…" She grinned, her hands resting solidly on his hips.

"Anything…"

"A proper honeymoon, somewhere hot… NOT in Nevada… with a bed…" She whispered drawing his mouth to hers.

"And lots of trees…" He agreed, his mouth invading hers.

A moment later the two CSIs were totally lost in each other.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

This is just a little more drabble. Despite the fact that the drabble a thon is over – I have to finish this… One more chapter I promise.

Rating T? Just for slight sexual innuendo.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews.

****

**Interlude 6 **

Sara hurt…

No, that wasn't the word for it… She ached.

No… She ached - dammit!

That was better.

There were a slew of tiny abrasions, equally matched by another slew of not so tiny bruises running across her back.

The tree – a bad, bad idea…

A point realized far too late.

While the coupling had been amazing and heart thudding, and supremely satisfying - the aftermath - having to sit in a chair with Sofia Curtis perched beside her, and pretend she was NOT in pain, was incredibly unpleasant. She'd done her best to focus on the interview and was elated when they'd finally wrapped the case, but all of that was overshadowed by the burning of a million little scrapes decorating her tender flesh.

The quick and secretive application of bactine ointment – by an extremely apologetic Gilbert Grissom had done little to mollify her. She was in PAIN…God dammit!

And this was why she simply snarled at him as they stepped on the elevator together at Desert Palms hospital.

Grissom had been at the hospital when his friend had come around. His visitation with the now conscious man was preempted by a contingent of Doctors and nurses who had a variety of jobs to perform. He'd been informed in no uncertain terms that that it would be at least an hour before they could get in to see him. So amidst the shuffle he'd gone down stairs to call everyone, not there, to give them the news and grab a coffee.

Oh his way back up they'd spotted each other from opposite ends of the corridor, so he'd waited, hopeful.

Jim Brass was conscious. So despite the pain in her back, it was going to be a good day - afternoon - night… whatever… They'd all lost count as to what time it was, and what shift they were into – hours ago. It was all good. He'd pulled through, she reminded herself as she made her way through the ER to the waiting elevator.

"I'm sorry…" As the doors closed behind him Grissom whispered his apology for maybe the hundredth since they'd left the dreaded field.

Sara simply snarled again.

"I'll look into a week away at a really nice resort as soon as we get home… Promise…" He said by way retribution.

Sara simply couldn't help but smile at this. It really wasn't his fault. It did take two to tango…

"I'll make sure it has trees with smooth trunks…" He offered.

A giggle escaped her lips. _How could she stay mad at the man?_

"No bark, maybe birches… Or the soft palms – the ones that have been trimmed and peeled?" He winked at her and put an arm carefully around her shoulders.

"Why don't we just stick to soft surfaces…like a bed Doctor Grissom?" She put in, her anger now fully dissipated as he drew her into a quick stolen kiss.

"Mmm…" He released her when the elevator dinged to a stop, his demeanor quickly shifting to professional, but his words remaining intimate. "And hammocks, and couches, and soft leather ottomans…"

She laughed completely at this, as they stepped onto the ICU floor together. "Fine by me…" She whispered. There was a familiar crowd up ahead and they made their way unhurriedly towards it. "But for the next few days…" she said softly. "I get to be on top."

They were about five feet away from the group by now so he didn't even turn to acknowledge her words. Instead he uttered a lascivious, "I hope that's a promise, Mrs. Grissom…" before he broke-off completely from her side, waved to the rest of the crew and then slipped through the door to Brass' room.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

All I can say is - thank god - I didn't have a word count to deal with.

Sorry I took so long, but - well I was a tad burnt out from my writing frenzy, and smut does take time - you have to be in the mood. Anyway... That said. Thanks for reading.

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING MMMMMMM!

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome.

**Chapter 7 - Interlude**

She was pouting slightly, a worried look owning her pretty face. "You're being maudlin Doctor Grissom and perceptive wife that I am; I sense it has everything to do with Jim…"

Somber Gil Grissom peeked out from behind his thoughtful façade as he traced the delicate ornamental paisleys covering their bed's new comforter. "It scares me Sara…" He abandoned his invisible etching and reached out a warm thick hand.

Placing her own slim fingers in his, she allowed him to tug her up and onto the bed from her kneeling position on the floor, his own weary body stretching out beside her as she came to rest at his side.

"Jim's a cop. He puts his life on the line everyday. He knows every time he holsters up that there is the potential for something like this to happen, Hon." Sara replied, flipping over onto her stomach. The side of her face rested on one of the throw pillows, and she stared up at him with one dark eye. It blinked solemnly.

Propping his head up on one arm he turned onto face her and stared down at her vulnerably prone body. A slight ripple of joy shifted through him. She trusted him. "You holster up, too… Love..." His words echoed forebodingly in their small cozy room, his free hand gently moving over the cool silk of her flimsy oriental robe… More tracing... This time the thin green palms that adorned the pale fabric covering her shower heated skin. Despite his concerns, Grissom absently contemplated what if anything his wife was wearing underneath it. "Just like a cop." She smelled of lemon and verbena…

His point was well made, and essentially inarguable, so she simply nodded. "I do. And I tell you, when I go to a scene I'm glad to have it." A small moan escaped her mouth at his gentle ministrations. "You carry one, too." She countered, but in a non argumentative way. Frankly, she was feeling far too lazy to do much of anything.

"Not always." Reaching out, he slipped a practiced finger under the silken waistband and spun it slowly so the bow was at the back.

"You should." She mumbled into the pillow.

"No…" Grasping one end of the bow he gave it a gentle tug, and watched fascinated as it unfurled. It was a lot like unwrapping a sacred gift. The slippery tie fell to each side of her slender body. "Makes a perp think that you're a cop, and that makes them more likely to take a shot at you."

Sara turned herself slightly onto her side; the robe, unhindered by its tie, slipped open minutely, revealing the curve of one pale breast.

Grissom let out a low animal-like moan and Sara felt something equally as carnal respond in the pit of her stomach.

"Lover…" She gave him the eye. The one that said he was treading on extremely shaky ground.

He had known that it was a moot point when he brought the subject up, but his fear for her, the one that constantly lurked in his sub-consciousness, had peaked with Jim's close call and was forcing him to form the words, regardless.

"I think I need to remind you of two things…" She continued, and sucked in a shuddering breath as one of his fingers began to trace a fiery path along the exposed part of her breast. "Firstly, we agreed – that other than discussing the occasional case, work stays at the lab." Her dark eyes looked at him pointedly, as she tried to remain focused on the matter at hand. "We were not going to impede each other from doing their job how they see fit, right…? Your words, not mine." Catching his fingers Sara brought them to her lips, and placed a delicate kiss on his squared fingertips. Then she brought his palm to her heart. "So we are going to have to agree to disagree on this particular issue for the time being… Okay…?"

Grissom nodded, albeit unconvincingly. _Damn rules…_ he'd come up with them at the beginning of their relationship. Things had changed dramatically since then. Ever dexterous, the hand she had been holding over her heart, became animated again, and moved almost as if of its own volition up to where her robe lay gathered at the skin of her neck. Slowly he moved it back exposing one smooth shoulder.

When he didn't say anything she smiled sexily at him. "Secondly, you need to remember marriage is compromise, Babe…"

Grissom rolled his eyes at this, but then smiled devilishly. "Well… I'm glad you feel that way because we may have a houseguest for a few days…"

"A houseguest...?" She repeated, as intrigued as she was wary. "Oh please tell me you didn't volunteer our spare room to store some car sized arachnid, or a nasty experiment they had no room to for at the university?"

He shook his head and tutted at the same time. "Nope..."

"Oh…" She moaned distractedly as the feel of his mouth on her shoulder seared her flesh. "God…"

Another kiss…. This one a little more involved. His tongue tenderly lapped at her willing skin.

"Gilbert Grissom." She placed one hand firmly against his sternum and shoved slightly. "I sense you are trying to distract me." She leveled him with a chagrined stare, her nimble fingers sliding down his own chest and gently scratching over one flat nipple.

A jagged breath his escaped his drawn lips.

"Out with it… who are we going to be sharing our humble abode with?"

He eyed her slightly for a moment, doing his best to judge the likelihood of _him_ spending the night in the guest room after his next announcement. He needed some insurance. Dropping his lips onto her shoulder again, his hand moved aside the robe's silken material just a little more. This action almost fully revealed one supple breast.

His view of it was stolen immediately when Sara rolled back onto her belly, and turned her head to look up at him. "Tell… me…"

Two eyebrows rose and met in the middle. "My mom…"

A silent, "Oh…," formed on Sara's lips, just before she dropped her head onto the mattress and covered it with one of the larger pillows, the toast scene from the Diane Chase case running rampant through her head. This did not bode well. Especially, since she didn't think that Grissom had even told his mother about her or their nuptials, yet.

"It won't be that bad, Love." He tried to tug the pillow off her head, but she held it fast in place.

"Have you even told her we are married?" Her muffled words rolled out from under the dense fabric.

"Uh…" He rubbed his beard, and pursed his lips. "No…"

"God… Grissom…"

"I was going to, really, but she was in Europe."

"We've been married 3 months."

"And then she was nursing her friend back to health."

"Before that we saw each other for three."

"And then she went on her annual art junket - this year it was Costa Rica."

Sara yanked the pillow off her own head and shoved it underneath it. "If - and I say _**if** -_knowing that the likelihood of it being a possibility is very slim. **_If _**she doesn't blame me for all this and hate me instantly for it, she is most definitely going to kill you… and then I will be a widow." She told him matter-of-factly, doing her best not to laugh. The look on his face said - perplexed little boy.

"She won't hate you. She'll love you, like I do." His hand slipped under her chin and drew her face to him before planting a soothing kiss on her lips.

"We should have told her before we got married."

"Love, it was at 3am in the morning her time." He said reasonably enough.

That was true. It had been a rare evening off together, so they had gone to dinner in Primm of all places, taken in a show, ridden the Desperado and somewhere between the first drop and the last, Grissom had asked her to marry him. Immediately… that night… So they had high-tailed it back to Vegas, woke the guy who owns the Graceland wedding chapel – Grissom had helped to clear his son of a murder charge a few years before - and tied the knot amongst a fit of giggles and laughter. $255 lighter and an hour later they were Mr. and Mrs. G. Grissom. Thankfully, the bugman had refused the Elvis package, otherwise Sara might have had to reconsider the wedding entirely.

Now three months later, his mom still didn't know.

"I grant you that… but what about the day after?"

He raised his eyebrows and wagged them at this. "If I remember correctly, we were a little preoccupied."

"Right…" They'd spent the day in bed… experimenting… as her newly acquired husband had called it.

Grissom lightly smoothed the top of Sara's robe away from her shoulder and further down her back, his lip softly brushing over one of her bruises.

"I'm really sorry about your back." He moved from injury to injury trying to kiss them all away.

Sara moved like lightening, rising up she tackled him, and within seconds she had him pinned flat on his back her lanky body straddling him dangerously. Both of her hands were wrapped around each of his wrists, and she held them flat against the mattress. "Gil." She bent down and kissed him lovingly her tongue playfully warring with his for a moment before pulling away. He tasted faintly of the robust red wine he'd had with dinner. "You are going to tell your mother before she arrives here." She kissed him again. "You're going to do it tomorrow before she gets on a plane to come for a visit to see her darling bachelor son... and discovers that not only is he no longer single, nor living alone, but he is also no longer a bachelor…" She kissed him yet again, this time a little more languidly. "Got it?" She mumbled into his mouth as a thick groan escaped his lips.

"Got it…" He agreed eagerly as she let his hands go and leaned back a little, the scant weight of her slightly nudging his growing arousal. He was in absolutely no position to argue, his head growing heavy with desire.

God… She managed to do it to him every time he realized, one hand rising to caress a now fully exposed Sara.

While she still wore the robe, the lack of a belt left it completely open in the front. It was a tantalizing sight. Her face was deeply flushed, just by virtue of his touch. A fact that made him feel powerful, and all at once humbled, because he was reminded each and every time he looked in her eyes - that he would do anything for her.

She smiled at him fully and scooted back a few inches, her body coming to rest completely on his growing erection. This drew an impassioned gasp from him as her fingers worked nimbly to even the score in the clothing department. A few seconds later his blue Hawaiian shirt lay off to the side, his squared chest at her disposal.

Almost drunk on the feel of his finger tips tracing delicate circles over the lower part of her back, she leaned in and flicked one flat nipple with her tongue, and suckled it slightly. This forced a groan from somewhere deep inside of him, and he bucked slightly under her. Grinning salaciously, she applied the same attention to his other nipple, before indolently working her mouth up across his chest to the hollow of his neck where she stopped a moment for a taste of the skin there and continued along his jaw to his warm sensual lips.

She ground into him again. This action caused the very reaction she had been expecting. In a flash he had lifted her forward and was working rapidly to divest himself of his loose fitting jeans, and the boxers beneath them. It was a simple task made all that much more difficult, by a giggling Sara who was busy suckling and tracing the rim of his right ear with her incredibly adroit tongue.

"Jesus…" He uttered as the material covering his bottom half finally cleared his thighs, and set him free from it almost painful confines. He kicked away his pants and worked the robe off of her it immediately joined the rest of his clothes on the floor.

Sara wiggled back slightly, and grinned at him wickedly, the press of his solid erection now digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks.

"Sara?" Grissom's face changed as his hands came to rest solidly on her hips, a small patch of plastic there hindering a few of his fingers from really touching her.

"Mmmmm." She licked her lips and waited. He was in a pensive state. I wasn't an unusual thing for him, but the timing of it forced a weight on her. Much like his proposal, this was something big that he felt he needed to say.

"Let's make a baby…"

Whoa… there it was. Definitely an Earth shaker…

She stared at him soberly for what felt like forever, so he quickly jumped in. "I know you think this is about Jim, but it's not. We've talked about it before, Sara."

They had and they'd agreed that they both did want a child or two, but they had also decided to wait a little. It was just that she hadn't realized the disparity in his version of _little_ as opposed to hers.

"Soon?"

"Now…"

"Now?" She eyed him speculatively for a moment.

The most pivotal points of their relationship were a lot like the bolts in a lightening storm you never knew where or when they were going to hit. After six years of dancing around each others unanswered and unrelenting emotions, they had started dating on a split decision, gotten married based on a proposal that was out of the blue, and now were in the midst of making another major life altering decision, all in a matter of seconds. Sara wasn't sure if this was the way other couples did this kind of thing, but damn it threw her completely off kilter and made her head spin all at the same time.

His fingers deftly worked at the edges of the birth control patch attached to her hip.

"Are you sure…?" she asked; worry etched into her delicate features.

"Never more sure… Sara…" He pulled the light plastic away from the patch of skin it was clinging to, folded it, and tossed it onto the bedside table; then drew her into a deep kiss, as if to emphasize his point.

She had been the one who brought it up children originally, just out of curiosity rather than any real desire, and he had surprised her by saying that he did in fact want a small family, but not just yet. That had been when the word _little_ had come into play. Next time she needed to get a full definition from him. In writing… And _small,_ that would definitely need defining.

"I won't get pregnant right away," she told him after they had surfaced for air. "I don't think we are at the right point in my cycle and the hormones that were flowing out of that baby are still way too high in my system, Dr. Grissom."

"It's a start…" He whispered into her mouth as he ran his fingers through her silken hair and pulled her back in for another kiss. "We can call this practice."

"Mmmm… Yeah…" She responded in kind, her lips dancing over his, and her fingers having slipped behind her were deftly toying with the soft sac between his legs. "I like practice… lots and lots…"

A heavy gasp filled her mouth and he breathed it into her, his hips bucking uninhibited under the feel of her hand and its adept massage.

One of his own fingers went to work on the mound just between her legs. A soft cry escaping her mouth, as she felt him hone in on the tense bundle of nerves nestled there. His touch was gentle but purposeful and it stoked the burgeoning heat that was seeping through her. A sharp inhalation broke the relative quiet of the room and she became instantly boneless, collapsing onto him, as he increased his pressure and then effortlessly slipped one and then two broad fingers into her. "Oh God…" was all she managed to utter; her hand blindly grasping for his swollen member.

That move was skillfully thwarted by a groaning Gil Grissom. He pulled her hand away and kissed it softly before placing it on the bed beside them. "No, Love…" He mumbled. "I won't last very long tonight." He was already incredibly hard, and she knew that this was going to be one of their more frenzied lovemaking sessions.

With a practiced ease he removed his slick fingers from her and lifted her up and onto him.

Something akin to a whimper and sigh of pleasure escaped the both of them as he impaled her, his own needy body desperate to feel her soft flesh sheathing him.

"God you feel so good…" was all he could manage... The words were spoken brokenly into the soft tendrils of her hair, as Sara tried to recover from the initial sensation and slowly began to rock, her mouth sliding over his.

A soft mewl was all she could manage, while he slipped solidly in and out of her, his passion and desire evident in every stroke.

Fingers caressed and mouths explored shamelessly, as they moved in a frenetic rhythm; soft moans and the occasional uttered crudity was their only background music.

A little known fact about Gil Grissom; he was as well read and well versed in the bedroom as he was in his field. With almost a single earth shattering push he was imbedded in her and immediately out again before she could even begin to recover. Madly, he spun her until she was sitting on his lap, but facing away from him.

He easily moved back into her, recovering the rhythm easily.

A profound gasp escaped her.

Placing one hand on her back he massaged it lightly, while his free hand found its way back down to the soft thatch of curls between her legs.

The roar of an impending orgasm flooded though her; a tightly knotted tension forcing a heavily gasped, "Jesus, Gil…" from her mouth.

Then ends of her vision began to fray, an almost inhuman growl whispering past her ear as her lover sat up behind her, his pliant mouth falling onto her shoulder, and his hips moving in time with hers. It wasn't an elegant dance, but a possessive and desperate joining of two souls.

"God… I love you…" The words were the punctuated by a tight cry from the man behind her. They were the last thing Sara heard, as a brilliant lightshow ripped through her willing body and wiped any coherent thought from her mind.

Later, when their bodies had cooled, and hearts had slowed, they clung to each other. Two people, seeing unspeakable atrocities on a daily basis, yet still able to build a small shelter created in love, compassion, and unquestionable support – for each other.

"You know, Gris…" Sara was curled up into his side her head nestled lazily against the crook of his neck.

"Mmmm…" He was already drifting into a satiated sleep.

"Practice will have to cease and desist until our houseguest goes home…" Sara whispered into his ear.

"We'll get her a hotel room." He mumbled, a smile touching his voice.

Sara simply giggled.

The end.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING MMMMMMM! Mostly for the previous chapter. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome.

This was a long time coming... sorry.

GSR... Spoilers WTG... and beyond...

**Interlude... redux**

**Chapter 8**

Sara was just finishing the list of chores she'd laid out for herself for the day. Glancing at her watch she swiped a loose curl that had escaped her messy ponytail, and pulled a thin multi colored tie-dye t-shirt over her fitted tank.

It was noon and Grissom was due home within the hour. He'd been called out of town to do collection on a bug infested body assigned to dayshift and had phoned to say that he would be back at around one. She'd promised him veggie lasagna for their version of dinner, and had yet to even pull a noodle from the cupboard.

For this there was only one solution; Fendi's a small Italian bistro a block away that actually made better pasta than she did. No one would suffer if she didn't cook.

Gripping her purse, she slung it over her shoulder slipped into her flip-flops and headed for the door. If she called them on the way, she would be back in time to put it in the oven and have it steaming hot and ready when he walked in the door.

Not that Grissom would say anything if dinner wasn't on the table when he arrived, since their relationship didn't hinge on any of the traditional expectations laid down by normal couples, but she liked to do this kind of thing for him, occasionally.

Shoving her keys into he pocket, she threw open the door and came fact to face with a rather petite older woman with stunning blue eyes.

Sporting a well coiffed silver bob, the woman tucked a stray strand of it behind one ear and pursed her small round mouth in surprise; her eyes immediately traveling to the elegant silver numbers of the thick wooden door, before coming back to rest on Sara's reddened face.

Though probably in her seventies, she was immaculately dressed in a modern cut navy suit, which was brightened up by a colorful bandana wrapped artist style around her neck. For a moment the woman tugged uncertainly at its knot and appeared almost embarrassed. "I know I have the right townhouse…?" The words came out as a question despite the fact that it was actually a statement.

Sara took in the woman's features her eyes falling on the softened cleft adorning the woman's youthful face. It was this very same feature that left her little doubt as to who the visitor was. "Uh… yeah…" She grinned nervously and held out her hand. "And you must be Mrs. Grissom…?"

Hesitantly, the woman slipped her hand into Sara's and shook it lightly. "Yes I am… and you are?"

"Sara…" The tall brunette waited hoping perhaps for a sign of recognition in her mother in-law's eyes.

The woman nodded slowly as if she was trying to make a connection, or perhaps searching for a slight bit of memory that may have escaped her, but she honestly seemed at a loss.

That is when it dawned on Sara.

He hadn't told her.

Gil Grissom was a dead man!

A tight smile formed on Sara's mouth and she stepped aside to allow the woman in. "Your son will be home soon." She told her, grasping Mrs. Grissom's bag off the floor in the hallway and ushering her inside. "Make yourself at home. I have to leave."

The woman stared at her uncertain still, and nodded. "Was he expecting you to be here when he returns, dear?"

For a moment Sara thought that maybe she had gotten it all wrong. Perhaps he had told her after all and seeing her there had been a shock because Mrs. Grissom had perhaps been expecting her son. "Uh…"

"Oh I know who you are…" A light appeared to have gone on behind the woman's eyes. "Gil mentioned you a while back." She beamed, nodding to herself.

Sara grimaced slightly at the use of the term "_a while back_…" there was something about it that just didn't sit right. A feeling of impending doom settled over her.

"You've done a wonderful job…" The older woman announced at the same time inspecting the room, with the eye of a pro.

"Huh?" This was the most surreal conversation she'd ever had with someone who was clearly stone cold sober.

Maybe she was senile… Sara pondered.

"You're Gil's maid right? Or is it housekeeper? Or home maker?" Her words drifted off, as she tried to peg the modern term. Then she smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry dear. I never get it right."

Sara's mouth dropped open so wide you could have fit the king sized bed in it with space to spare.

The woman wasn't senile she was misinformed and Sara was going to kill her illustrious husband.

Bristling, the slim brunette forced her mouth closed and in as polite a voice as she could muster she nodded. "Right… yeah…"

Gil Grissom was more than a dead man; he was going to be a horribly maimed dead man if she had anything to say about it.

"I had better get going." The young CSI waved loosely and made to leave.

"Does Gil know how to reach you?" The Mrs. Grissom was making short work of untying the scarf around her neck and settling in.

The young CSI stared at the older woman a moment and then shook her head. "Actually, I have just been forced to leave my home, so I am going to be staying with a friend."

"Oh… well, dear, do you need some money? Has he paid you?" Her concern was clearly genuine, as she reached for her purse.

The whole conversation would have been so absurdly funny if Sara wasn't so incredibly pissed off. "I don't need money." She assured the woman. "But you can tell him if he needs to get me within the next few hours I will be at a place called the Dominion. I am taking a class there. It's called _Mastery in the Art of Pain_."

When distress registered in the woman's eyes Sara patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry Mrs. Grissom; it's strictly a philosophical seminar. But please do give him the message."

Grissom's mother nodded, a confused look overwhelming her kindly features.

"Thank you…" Sara smiled with over done brightness, and left the townhouse, all the while wondering whether Lady Heather truly did offer classes of this nature and where she could sign up.

It took all of twenty minutes for the new Mrs. Grissom to figure out what she was going to do. After leaving the home they shared she'd driven around for a few minutes her head reeling from the realization that Grissom hadn't told his mother about them at all, about her specifically and their wedding in general. It hurt, a lot, though he would undoubtedly have a reasonable explanation…

He had to…

She hoped.

So for the first 15 minutes she focused on painful ways to cause his demise, and then when her murderous tendencies had been sated by some thrilling fantasies, she settled into the issue at hand; where was she going to stay?

Catherine had a full house, with her mother and daughter, and aside from which if she were end up on her female coworker's doorstep, Sara would undoubtedly be stuck answering a slew of questions. And things being what they were, she didn't imagine her resolve would last too long the pressure of the older woman.

There was Warrick… but each of the two times she'd met his wife Tina, she had received an unpleasant snarl for her cordiality, so his place was definitely out.

That left either Nick or Greg.

Sara knew Greg would take her in no problem, but his apartment was a bachelor pad. That meant a bed that doubled as a couch, a bathroom, a kitchen and a TV. Not much space and nowhere to hide.

So this is how she found herself on the front porch of Nick's small house, at around one o'clock in the afternoon hoping desperately that her friend wasn't in there working up a lather with a woman or something equally as provocative.

Sucking in a deep breath she pressed the buzzer beside the door, and leaned against the small white railing that encircled the front porch, absently going over the story in her head.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING MMMMMMM! Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome.

This was a long time coming... sorry.

GSR... Spoilers WTG... and beyond...

**Interlude: 9**

Grissom stared into the break room, his breath catching in his throat. She was there… He'd half expected her to call in and take a sick day, but there she sat - sandwiched between Nick and Warrick, her fingers absently tracing circles on the thin fabric of her jeans. She was smiling at something the Texan had said to her but he could tell she was only marginally listening as the smile never truly reached her eyes.

He'd spent a restless and sleepless afternoon, panic having set completely in when he'd climbed out of bed to find his mother in the kitchen brewing coffee instead of the woman he was married to. He'd hoped she would see the humor in the situation and decide to come home – but the look on Ava Grissom's face had only served to reinforce how incredibly stupid he felt.

"I know, I know…" had rolled off his tongue, and he'd waved her off after fixing himself cup of the steaming brew.

His mom was beside herself over the situation she'd created and had gone to town on her son the minute she realized what she'd done. His mother, who had always claimed the sun rose and set on her son's head had even gone so far as to call him a _dumbass -_ a term he'd never heard her use in his entire life. She'd never been one to use derogatory terms or foul language, and when he expressed his shock, his mom had easily explained to him that he was a fifty year old adult and he should damn well suck it up, because in her words…She called 'em as she saw 'em...

Much to his chagrin, she'd been right, dumbass being the least offensive of the words he would have chosen to use against himself.

The old woman had also made it clear, before he left for work early that evening, that he best not return the following morning, without her new daughter in-law or he would be sleeping outside on the landing.

The sucker of it was – he knew she wasn't bluffing, even if the ownership papers said the townhouse his.

Yup! His mom was pissed, too!

He'd fucked up royally - both he and his mother agreed on this particular point. And fixing it – he surmised - might not be all that easy.

His first instinct, when he'd arrived at home and discovered the situation, was to go out looking for Sara - but he was stuck. Calling around to their co-workers was not an option, as that would raise certain suspicions that the both of them had hoped to avoid for a little longer. And while revealing of their relationship was something they were planning on doing at some point in the immediate future, both preferred to plan the announcement instead of having it be the result of a mishap.

Sara was already angry, no doubt about it. The minute glare she cast his way as he wobbled into the crowded room told him as much. She would have been lethally pissed off if his inquiries brought their secrecy to a premature end. So instead, that afternoon, after putting up with a diatribe from his mother that almost bordered on abusive, he'd tried to sleep and then did what he usually did when insomnia took over; he went into work early and lost himself in paperwork.

The din of the room dropped as he entered and studied the sheets Catherine had shoved into his hand; his heart sinking after he'd scanned them for content.

Grissom had hoped to be able to pair Sara up with himself so that they could sort everything out – well that was probably wishful thinking he corrected himself; his fingers massaged his exhausted eyes – but at least she would be in a position where she would be forced to hear him out.

There were some perks to being the shift supervisor, but in this case all the pull in the world wouldn't have helped. As his eyes roamed over the call sheets in his hand once more her realized - he was shit out of luck.

First case up was a dead body at a gala held by Sam Braun, not unusual or unexpected, based on the man's reputation. But this meant that Catherine had to be put to work on the second case - one which happened to have a note in bold red marker scrawled across the top of it. _Sheriff requests that Dr. Gil Grissom personally oversee this case._

It was a death at the MGM Grand, and involved one of their biggest money making _Cirque_ shows… Shows tourist profit. Someone had put the pressure on.

Greg was at PD picking up some evidence on an earlier rape case, so he glanced at the paper in his hand once again. "Cath you and I have 419 at the MGM, Sofia is on the scene and Nick when you finish up with your trick roll from yesterday, I want you and Greg to join us. This is going to be a big one, I suspect."

"You got it." Nick patted the slim brunette's knee and rose to his feet. "Just need to pick up some stuff from trace on that, then I'll snatch Greg and see you there." With that, he was gone.

Angry brown eyes locked on blue, and Grissom sighed holding up the Braun sheet. "Sara, and Warrick, possible suicide at the Olympia… Dave will meet you there."

With a flourished, "Thank you!" Warrick was the first out of his seat, and had snatched the paper from Grissom's hand before Sara had even cleared her chair. Normally, it was a bit of a tussle because first the one to the paper usually got to drive, but this time Sara didn't even put up a fight… preferring to take the long way around the table, and out of the room simply to avoid having to deal with her husband at all.

Grissom recognized this ploy for what it was and stopped her as she passed. "Sara, can I talk to you for a minute?"

His voice was warm and non committal, but it took a concerted effort for it to remain that way when he caught the flush of anger staining her cheeks.

Still pissed as hell and sporting a back ache from spending the afternoon on Nick's couch Sara scowled at him, but stopped when she felt his hand on her forearm.

A tension drew itself across her shoulders and she turned as Catherine ambled out of the room. "Take your own car…" The blonde called back over the shoulder as she made her way towards the elevators.

"I'll meet you at the truck…" Sara told Warrick as he grabbed his vest off the back of his chair and shoved the call sheet in his pocket.

"I gotta stock up, anyway, you need anything?" He indicated the case she had sitting at her feet.

"Just some buccal swabs…" came her tight reply.

"You got it." He tossed his vest over his shoulder and grabbing his own case, sauntered down the hall.

She stood for a moment staring at him, trying her best not to help him out in any way. Most times all she had to do was look into his gentle blue eyes and forgiveness came pretty easily.

"I'm sorry."

Sara rolled her own eyes and made to leave, but he held her fast.

"Listen, I know I should have told her, but after we talked…time just got away from me. And then… well I didn't know she was coming…"

Sara opened her mouth to object.

"No, wait..." Thick fingers moved slowly across the cool landscape of her skin creating an odd sort of friction. "That's not what I meant. I - I mean, we knew she was coming this week, but I just didn't know it was today. I meant to tell her… But there was that big case last week, and we spent the weekend away…" He drew his free hand down his face, and pursed his lips. "I ran out of time. I'm sorry."

The hurt hiding behind her anger came to the forefront and she angled herself so that anyone passing by couldn't see her face. "We've been married for over three months." Her voice was so low that even Grissom was finding it hard to hear. "I was forgiving when we last talked about this, but I don't think it's going to come that easily to me this time." Aggravated at the tears gathering in her eyes, she tugged her arm from his grip, and swiped at them. "The only explanation I have for something like this, Gris, is that maybe you didn't want her to know about us."

"No…Never, Sara I swear."

He shook his head and reached up to rub away the one tear that had escaped her angry swipe, but she stepped back out of his reach and grabbed her kit. "Sure."

"Honestly, I've told her and she's thrilled, she wants to meet you and well... kill me..."

Sara almost smiled at this, but fought it and moved towards the door. "Gris, this maid is tired of wading through your emotional shit; you may need to hire a new one."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING MMMMMMM! Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome.

This was a long time coming... sorry.

GSR... Spoilers WTG... and beyond...

**Interlude: 10**

People had been milling for the better part of the night, most of them seeking answers, or at least gossip about the macabre affair. Sara wished that they would all just go home, as she was sporting a bit of a headache, and to boot they were wandering muckety muck all through her crime scene despite the yellow tape.

Brass had ordered a few extra bodies in to help with the interviews, leaving only those truly pertinent to the case for the she and Warrick talk to. Never the less, the evening was shaping up to be a long one, and it had just started.

Her earlier conversation with David only served a painful reminder of the rift between she and Grissom at the moment; his announcement of a _meet the in-laws_ dinner, tearing at an already gaping wound.

If anyone had asked her, she was stressed. The meeting with Grissom's mom had caused more than enough trauma, then the reality having to make up a story involving fumigation, and evacuation to quell Nick's valid questions, had contributied to the impending sense of doom – she didn't like lying to her friends. Add to that, the fact that her back hurt from sleeping on the couch, and yeah… She was pissed, miserable, and hurting in more ways than one.

Nick had offered her the option of taking his bed, but she couldn't do it to him, though at around about 4 she had considered climbing in with him, as she grew increasingly more uncomfortable. All in all she'd managed maybe an hour of solid sleep. It was for this reason that she was seriously considering ignoring the buzzing of her cell that was firmly attached to her hip.

A cursory glance indicated that it was her husband, nay supervisor on the line and she was really in no mood to talk to him. It buzzed in her hand once again and she was almost overcome by the desire to see if the lab issue phone would actually bounce from 30 storeys up. It took a moment for her to realize she was being silly. In all likelihood, the call was work related, and something she had to answer regardless, so she moved away from Brass and Warrick and peered over the side of the roof, the phone readily pressed to her ear. "Sidle."

"How's everything going at your scene?" His words were tender and bent more towards personal than professional.

Moving a little further from a group of partiers who'd taken up residence a few feet away, Sara fought the urge to forgive and forget, and instead decided to keep it professional. Aside from which, her back was still aching. "Probable suicide. Lots of potential witnesses. We have some extra help."

"Okay…" There was silence on the line for a moment. "Listen, I'm going to be here at the MGM a little longer, do you want to meet up in an hour or so? We can have dinner and talk?"

If he'd been there with her Grissom would have seen her shake her head. But as it stood, Brass was the only one to see her, as he made his way over from finishing up the interview with Joe Hirschoff. "No sorry, I seem to have lost my appetite."

"Sara, please…"

"I have to go Brass is coming over." With that she flipped the phone closed. He wasn't going to get off that easily this time. Her feelings were hurt, her head hurt, and so did her back." Gil Grissom would be paying for a while yet.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1. 

RATING MMMMMMM! Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This chapter is a little longer than the last.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome...

GSR... and includes season 7 stuff.

**Interlude 11**

Sara crinkled her nose and left the morgue the smell of death and stale margaritas still assaulting her senses as the door swung shut behind her. There was a small glass container in her hand and a partial report detailing the information Doc Robbins had just shared with her, along with a few other tidbits that she could slip into her working file. The jar clutched in her slim fingers held seeds. Sesame seeds to be exact. She wasn't sure what it meant but she was fairly certain that it was important. After years of being a CSI, her intuition was well honed and tended to be set off by some of the most obscure things, in this case – two small sesame seeds.

At the moment, she was busy contemplating how her senses could be so in tune with the murder and mayhem she dealt with daily, but so off base when it came to the living breathing portion of her life.

Maybe she had agreed to the marriage too quickly? After all – who proposes on a rollercoaster…?

Then again…Who accepts?

Maybe he'd had too much wine with dinner that night? Maybe _she_'d too much wine with dinner that night?

Maybe she was so desperate to continue to be a part of Gil Grissom's life that she'd jumped at the opportunity without really looking at things for what they were. It irritated her that there was something so innately typical about that possibility. She had always desired to be the exception rather than the rule.

Maybe after Grissom had proposed – he'd rethought the whole thing but felt trapped and was afraid to say anything to her about it. Maybe this was his minds way of acting out what was really going on in his subconscious.

Maybe she needed a good stiff drink and a copy of some Dr. Phil book to figure it all out.

Her head was aching all the more, and she tried to shake away the negative thoughts as she fingered the up button in front of her. Warrick was waiting for the autopsy result, he told her he would be hanging out in the drying room. She wanted to pass the sesame seed info onto him and see what he thought. The slim brunette was about to hit the call button for the third time when the elevator doors swung open to reveal the sole cause of her emotional turmoil.

Sara scowled at him. She couldn't help herself. Her back still hurt and truth be told so did her heart.

Grissom, on the other hand, looked pleased and fearful all at the same time, but immediately grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her into one of the empty examination rooms.

Caught between not wanting to make a scene, and incensed at being treated like property, Sara pulled away the minute Grissom let go and made for the exit, but he was far too fast, and had managed to barricade the door with his body before she even had a chance to reach for the knob.

"What are you doing?" Her arms instinctively found a place across her chest, but she refrained from tapping her toe, much like an impatient teacher would do.

"We need to talk." Four simple words that would lead to a very complicated conversation, "now…" He added.

Sara's eyes roamed a liberal path around the darkened room. There were three bodies in line for an autopsy, they were on hold and had been shoved into a corner. A heavy sigh snuck out. "This is not the place. We have an audience."

Warm blue eyes met brown and Grissom couldn't help but smirk. "They won't be gossiping any time soon."

Sara rolled her own dark orbs and bit back a grin. Damn… why couldn't she stay mad at him? Her heart desperately wanted her to forgive and forget and fall into his arms. But she forced herself to feel the pain sitting just below the surface of her emotions, and once she managed to level her voice into something that sounded a little more stern, she shook her head. "This really isn't the place. We're at work. You know the rules. You made them."

He moved closer to her and wrapped his thick fists around each of her upper arms. The contact made them both shiver. "Look. If you want I will walk into the break room now and in front of everyone tell them the whole story. From beginning to end. I will write it on the whiteboard in the hallway, too. If you want. Just, give me a chance to explain."

Dark hair flew about her face as she shook her head animatedly. "How can you possibly explain this? I mean seriously."

"I…" he stopped searching for the words when he didn't continue immediately, Sara continued.

"See… You can't. Do you know what I've been thinking, Gris?" He winced at the use of his last name, even thought it was a commonplace term she used at work. "I've been wondering if this is really what you wanted. Maybe you don't even realize it, but maybe in your subconscious you really don't want to be married?"

"No…No…no… no…" He pulled her into his arms. She wasn't sobbing, or fighting him, just stiff and distant. "Never that Sara. Of all the things I'm unsure of, us…you and I," He stroked her hair, and whispered into her ear. "and this marriage, isn't it. This is the one thing I can say for certain I do want in this life." His words were soft and held the full weight of his emotions.

At this point a sob had caught in her throat, her breath hitching as she softened in his arms. "Actions speak louder than words…Bugman."

"I know, and I should have told her, and I…God. Do you want to know the truth?"

She pulled out of his arms and nodded her hand instinctively going to the corner of one eye. She was NOT going to cry. "That's all I have ever wanted. Good or bad."

"It really has nothing to do with you; I mean our relationship. I just wasn't sure of what my mom would think of you and I. I knew that once she got to know you she would love you, but I was concerned about her reaction to our age difference, and felt like I didn't what to have that prejudged. I mean I know her and her immediate impulse would have been to question everything – because of it. You know, old man, marries young woman… She's old fashioned and I just… I wanted her to see for herself the home we've made, and the life we've built." He hand his hands clasped on either side of her face; his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks.

She stared at him silently for a moment, completely torn. On one hand all she wanted to do was dive into his embrace and forget it all, she'd desperately missed his touch and it had been less than 24 hours, that they'd been a part. On the other hand, damn it. He'd done this to her far too many times. Nothing this huge, mind you, but similar shit. She shook her head, but didn't get the chance to say anything.

"Look. I know. This is something we should have discussed, but remember – I'm still a little dysfunctional when it comes to this stuff. I'm trying, though."

A long silence followed before Sara managed to formulate a thought that she could actually put into words. When she did her voice was tense and still held the pain of her unshed tears. "Yeah… this is the kind of thing we really need to discuss, Gil, you can't keep it to yourself no matter how stupid you think it is anymore. Because in doing that you shut me out. And that is not a marriage I want to be a part of. If we can't talk, then we have nothing."

"You're right." He leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"And this is the last time you get to use that relationship challenged excuse. You've used it up. You need to start thinking more in terms of Gil and Sara. Not just Gil… okay?" Her face fit easily into the crook of his neck as he squeezed her into him.

He nodded. "Love you." He whispered and dropped another soft kiss on her cheek.

"Then prove it."

"I'll spend until my dying day trying." Another kiss, this time on the corner of her mouth, then he pulled away his voice was little boy like and almost petulant. "My mom feels awful, and can you believe she actually called me a dumbass?"

A throaty giggle escaped Sara Sidle. "Well far be it for me to argue with your mom. Though you're not dumb, just an ass sometimes."

"You two are going to gang up on me aren't you?" A soft moan escaped the two of them as he finally pulled her into a languid kiss.

When they broke apart Sara nodded. "We'll whip you into shape, yet."

"Can we save the whips for when you and I are alone… that might be fun." He winked.

"That was a groaner Dr. Grissom, but I might just surprise you one day. The dominion has very comfortable beds, and I have a wiling teacher if ever I want one."

Grissom's mouth dropped completely open.

"I have to go." She waved the jar in his direction. "Warrick's waiting."

"Sara you didn't actually spend the night there?" He was almost 100 sure that she wouldn't have done anything of the sort – but there was still a nagging doubt in the back of his mind.

"Sesame seeds…" She shook the jar again and then walked out the door. He may have been forgiven, but Gilbert Grissom was still gonna pay… and she had just the thing she would use to collect.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING M. Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This chapter is a little longer than the last.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks for the reviews you all are awesome...

GSR... and includes season 7 stuff.

**Chapter 12**

Sara took a white plastic knife and divided the soy burger in half, and after picking up her piece, she shoved the container with the rest of the fries and other half of the burger in Warrick's direction.

He shook his head and pushed the container back in his direction. "Girl, that soy burger will kill you. Ack…" He feigned a shiver, but did steal another fry.

"Have you ever had one?" Amusement was written all over her face as she slid the container back in his direction.

He leaned in and his voice dropped secretively "Tina's not a vegetarian, but she made this soy meatloaf thing one time, and it smelled of dirty sweat socks and tasted like." He shivered again and gagged. "Let me just say, people were not meant to eat that shit, so no I haven't had one. I like life way to much." He nudged the container back towards her. "It's made of beans – that's unnatural. A Hamburger's origin is Steak Tartare… steak – indicating meat… and I'm a meat and potatoes kinda guy."

Sara grinned and slid the container back in his direction. "I cannot believe you know the history of a hamburger."

"All the way back to the times of the Genghis Khan and the Mongol Horsemen, did you know that they used to take the meat, put it under the saddles and then eat it raw when they were hungry? Now that's a little rare for my taste. But even a rare burger is better than a soy burger."

Sara rolled her eyes and held the container in place when he reached out to push it back to her. "These guys make the best burgers in LV."

He stared at the white container. There was no indication of which restaurant made it. "How do you know where he got this thing? Knowing Gris, it's ground up roaches from some bug museum. He eats some weird shit, Sara." And as if his own words had just sunk in, he stopped himself mid-reach for another fry.

"It's from Hefty burger down the street" She pulled the bill out from the underside of the container and waved it at him. "Even you eat there. Come on. Try it. Just one bite and if you don't like it – fine."

Warrick stared at her warily and gauged his hunger. A loud grumble from his stomach indicated, it indeed was empty. But Tina had packed him a lunch, though he distinctly remembered seeing left over meatloaf on the counter while she was doing it. Meatloaf sandwich or Soy burger… both deadly options, but the burger was fresh. He reached out as Sara rose taking her half with her.

"I'm going to go fill the bossman in on our case so far. Want to come?"

Warrick was a mouthful deep into the burger, and shook his head. "Gonna go see Brass." He chewed and swallowed part of his bite. "This isn't bad…" He mumbled, as she smiled and made her way out of the room; a lyrical "I told you so…" trailing behind her.

* * *

"Hey…" The word was soft, and music to Gil Grissom's ears.

"Hey yourself." He motioned for Sara to enter and indicated she should close the door. "Was the burger, okay?" He grinned, as she dropped into the chair in front of him and crossed her legs.

"I had half, shared the rest with Warrick." Sara returned his smile. "Well, after some convincing. Did you know he knows the history of a hamburger?"

"Well people know a lot about the things that mean a lot to them."

One well manicured eyebrow crept up. "Okay, but a hamburger?"

"Clearly food is something that's important to him, have you ever listened to how he orders when we go out for breakfast or lunch. He takes his food seriously. I hope Tina's a good cook."

Sara grimaced at Warrick's earlier comment, about the meatloaf. "Or is at least willing to take cooking lessons…" She offered.

"Mmmm…" Grissom signed off on the form on his desk and slipped it on top of a growing pile. "Speaking of food…" Blue eyes focused on brown, and Grissom smiled goofily hoping his wife would be smiling as well after his next question. "I know things didn't go swimmingly when you met my mom…"

"That's an understatement, bugman."

"But she is only in town for two days - today being the second day, and then she's off to New York for some exposition, and she wants to take her new daughter in law out for a celebration breakfast/dinner before she heads off to the airport. She really does feel horrible."

"Ah… okay…but does she know I'm a vegetarian?" Sara looked decidedly uncomfortable, the memories of the previous morning assaulting her, along with an unpleasant dose of the hurt.

"Yeah, well in between lectures and the two hours of sleep I managed to grab, she gave me the third degree about you." He looked sheepish, and fiddled with his pen a moment before grabbing another file off the never ending pile.

"And our age difference?"

"Oh, that's when she called me a dumbass."

A giggle bounced around the small room.

"She told me she's clearly more modern that I am, and that as long as I was happy, and made you happy, that's all she could ask. Age is a state of mind." He looked sheepish, and then applied his name to yet another sheet.

Standing up Sara leaned over the desk and dropped a copy of her report on it. "I think I like your mom already."

"So it's a yes?"

"Yup." She checked her watch. "Warrick and I are following a trail of sesame seeds. I'll let you know where it leads us to."

"She made reservations at the Wellington in the Bellagio. Do you want to follow me from here to the restaurant?"

"No I have to go to the dominion and pick up a few things first." With an evil grin she had turned and left the room before he'd even had a chance to respond.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING M. Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks reviews are loved and appreciated… you all are awesome...

GSR... and includes season 7 stuff

Sorry about the wait. Things have been crazy busy at home and as always r/l has impeded this end of my creative pursuits. However, out of the bad (my lack of time) comes good - my writing partner Sara and I do have a novel completed and out to the agencies. Cross your fingers for us.

* * *

**Interlude 13**

"According to my supervisor we're not in the business of why, but…" Sara's beeper went off, and she looked down and pulled it from her waist. "I have to go."

Grissom stared at her a moment, interested in hearing her theory, and moderately disappointed that he wouldn't get to. She was already part way to the door, when he uttered a soft, "_I love you."_

She turned, hesitated before putting her hand on the door knob, and decision made; she closed it. A sly grin painted her face as she turned back to him. "Elvis Presley sang it best, Bugman."

He stared at her, his eyebrows hovering speculatively above the frames of his glasses.

She turned and walked towards him, a predator's look dancing in her eyes. Grabbing the file he held, she closed it, dropped it on the desk and lead him over behind one of his office shelves.

Both amusement and anticipation spread through his grin, and she slipped her arms around his neck. "Elvis Presley?" he murmured, his heart rate quickening at her touch.

It felt like home as his strong arms enfolded her and crushed her protectively into his chest. "Mmmmhmm…" She grinned, "A little less conversation a little more action please."

His mouth formed in an "O", but he actually didn't have time to say anything, as her lips pressed into his.

As angry as she had been, and as hurt as she still was, there was no denying how she felt about him. For the second time that day she cursed herself for it. How could she get her point across if she couldn't even manage to stay pissed at him?

The kiss deepened, tongues danced, and for a moment it looked like one of Grissom's deep seated fantasy's was going to come true.

The entomologist's mouth and tongue were in the midst of tracing a delightful path along the satiny length of her neck when the door opened and Catherine's voice disturbed the relative silence of the room. "Gil you in here?"

Sara couldn't help but smirk, as her lover turned husband, paled to the color of a ghost, and grabbed a thick text off a nearby shelf. "Over here…" he intoned, passing the text to Sara, and grabbing another smaller book from beside it.

"I have an update on the Celia Noel case for you."

Sara eyed the book in her hand, and rolled her eyes. Scrawled across the cover in bold red writing were the words;_ The Life of the North American Blow Fly._ "Thanks…" she stated loud enough for their intruder to hear, and almost laughed as Grissom loosely positioned the book he was holding over the noticeable bulge in his pants.

"Hey, Sara…" Catherine's grin appeared around the metal shelves. "Warrick was looking for you a minute ago."

"Yeah. I got the page. Just picking up some bedtime reading before I head over to PD. Vic's business partner is here to pick up Mr. O'Brien's effects."

Catherine eyed the cover of the text Sara was brandishing about. "Now THAT looks like some exciting reading." Her sarcasm was followed up with a well practiced eye roll.

"Mmmm…" She smiled and headed towards the door. "You never know when this information is going to come in handy, besides it'll help put me to sleep quick as a bunny." With that she was a gone.

Completely uncomfortable, Grissom quickly made his way towards his desk and dropped into his chair. A second later, the book in his hand appeared on top of a stack of completed files.

Thankfully Catherine too busy talking to pay attention to his actions.

"That girl needs to get a life."

"Why's that?" Breathing a sigh of relief, Grissom stared up at the blonde woman speculatively.

"The Life of the North American Blow Fly? Come on Gil? That can't be healthy." Catherine dropped the case file on the desk in front of him and flopped into the first of the two guest chairs.

An internal moan rolled through him. Catherine Willows was a creature of habit. She usually only took a seat if she was planning on visiting for a while…

"I mean. Boyfriends? Girlfriends even? She needs to get out, do something, have fun…"

Yup… the diatribe had started. He was only grateful that her focus wasn't on _his _private life this time. He was also grateful that the painfully evident proof of the intimate life _they _did in fact share, and were enjoying only moments before was hidden safely beneath the solid wood of his desk. "Okay? And you're telling me this because?"

"You're her friend Gil, and her supervisor." The blonde woman tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, and shrugged, "Talk to her."

"Ah… okay…but Sara's a big girl, she really should be the one to decide her own life. Aside from which you can't make a person do something they don't want to." He leaned and flipped open the report she'd supplied him with.

"Half an hour ago I invited her out with Nicky and I. A concert, a bar, a few beers, some dancing…" Catherine leaned in. "Do you know what she said?"

Grissom shook his head, and shifted aside the scene photos, to get to the meat of the report.

"She said no, she had plans. And then I see her leaving here with a big assed book, saying its bedtime reading."

"Well she could be going out after shift, and then going home to bed." He offered, flipping to the last page of the file.

"Right, sure, whatever." Exasperation laced the woman's words. "Okay then do you want it?"

"Want what?" He looked up at her from the page he was skimming.

"A ticket to the concert…Well it's more of a pass, the bar is usually open to the public, but the MGM has it booked for a mini concert – the tickets were comped to us - for our work at Ka."

Blue eyes locked with blue and Grissom weighed his options, if he said no flat out, he was sure she would stick around and nag him, and he couldn't say yes. "Can I let you know?"

Catherine squinted at him momentarily, unsure of how to take his answer. "Okay."

"I'll call you later; if I'm coming you can give me the details." It would be far easier to say no over the phone.

"Alright then." She stood up. "Celia's death was accidental."

"Yeah…I see that." He signed the bottom of the report, and flipped it shut.

"Gil you need to get a life, too." She pointed to the book he had brought to the desk and read it aloud. "The Mating Habits of the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach?" One well manicured eyebrow was raised in her direction.

He actually groaned aloud at this and then masked it with a tense grin. "It's for a paper I'm writing. I'll call you, okay?" he added, dismissively.

"Fine." She shook her head in frustration, and turned on her heel. A moment later she was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING M. Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks reviews are loved and appreciated… you all are awesome...

GSR... and includes season 7 stuff

Sorry about the wait. I'm in LA right now. Beautiful here. I'm also learning how to surf.

* * *

**Interlude 14**

A mix of emotions assaulted Sara as she entered the lobby of the MGM. Sorrow had followed her through the streets of Las Vegas. When the realization struck her that Robert O'Brien and Joe Hirschoff had been more in life than the assumed business partners, she'd been overcome with a tempered sadness. Already an emotional mess, she'd been more than vulnerable to her rampant imagination. What would she do were the same thing to happen to her? If she had heed the one on the receiving end of the same speech she'd given Hirschoff only an hour before. She couldn't fathom it.

All the more reason to move past her anger and get on with the forgiving, she reminded herself.

But that didn't make this meeting with Grissom's mom any less nerve wracking, and it was made all that much more traumatic by the fact that he'd called her mere minutes before to back out on their getting to know you dinner. Just as she'd made their way past valet and into the stunning lobby of the hotel, her phone had let out with a loud Latin samba and sure enough the apologies had ensued. That had led to the upset she was feeling as she practically stomped up to the maitre-de. "You have reservations for the Grissom party?" She hadn't even had time to go home and change. A pair of high heels and a navy wrap dress she occasionally wore to court would have to suffice. It was the only thing she had in her locker that was clean and presentable.

_Damn Vegas… the city that never sleeps was also blessed with criminals that never stopped, _Sara grumbled under her breath. Grissom had been called away to yet another crime scene, effectively stranding her with a woman she knew only minutely – and who'd thought she was her son's maid, when they first met. It was apparently a high profile case from what she gathered, but that didn't make her situation any easier to swallow. A washed up rock star, possibly bludgeoned to death… a messed up family. It was a real winner and likely enough to have him working well into the next shift. That equaled some possibly tense dinner conversation between the two women since the object of their affections was not there to mediate. Not that Sara was being negative… okay she was a bit, but there as already going to be a communication issue to deal with. At some point she planned on learning sign language, but at the present the intention - while good - was useless.

The woman she recognized as Elena Grissom smiled brightly at her as she approached the table. Her absentee husband had assured her that his mom would be fine reading her lips but his attempts at easing her concern had fallen on deaf ears as Sara had been too busy fretting to pay much attention.

"Sara!" The word was not as thick and malformed as was the norm with some deaf people. Had Sara not known that was unable to hear, she probably wouldn't have recognized that she was deaf right off. Grissom had attributed it to her gradual hearing loss, as opposed to having been born that way.

The slim brunette shifted from foot to foot, nervousness running through her. "Hi…" She wagged her fingers almost shyly.

The older woman was on her feet and had Sara locked in a tight embrace almost immediately. For such a petite woman, the young CSI was surprised at her strength.

"It's nice to meet you again, Ms. Gris…" She stopped, realizing that her mother in law couldn't hear her, and waited until she'd let go and stepped back.

"Come sit…" She pulled her new daughter in law into the chair next to her. "Did Gilbert ditch me again…?"

Sara couldn't help but smile at this and carefully turned her head to ensure she could read her lips easily. "Yes…" She flinched. "He's ditched you and me both. He got called to a crime scene so it wasn't intentional. How did you know?"

"Well my son is nothing if not prompt - has been ever since he was a small child, and I know he wouldn't have let you come in here ahead of him, were he with you." She leaned in almost conspiratorially. "After yesterday, I don't think he trusts me around you; which, by the way, I'm very sorry about. I remain horribly embarrassed about it."

A brilliant grin spread across the younger woman's face. "Not your fault. If you don't mind my saying so, I think the blame in this particular fiasco, can be laid squarely on you son's shoulders. I had told him to tell you, numerous times. I honestly thought he had."

"He said as much to me last night… I truthfully don't know how such an intelligent man can be so silly at times. Though I admit when I was younger I might have been concerned at him dating someone fifteen years his junior, but that was my own immaturity at work. And I have to say that over the years I've come to realize that age really is just a number." She leaned in and patted Sara's hand. "You make my son happy, that's all I can ask as a mother."

"I'm glad you feel that way." The lanky brunette relaxed slightly, and flashed a genuine grin in the woman's direction.

Mrs. Grissom it appeared had a flair for color, as with the first time they met she was wearing a smartly colored scarf wrapped artist style around her neck, but this time her outfit was a simple royal blue shirt style dress, that made her look years younger than her actual age. "Well for a while there I had given up on my son ever finding love. It's a very hard life alone, and I wondered that if perhaps it was my fault, since I never got involved with anyone else after my husband passed. Often times children live what they see."

Sara gave her mother in law's comments some genuine thought before nodding slowly. "I admit a lot of children do grow up to mimic the actions of their parents. Not all, but a lot do. However, in this case I think Gil's issues have to do more with fear… of loss, of hurt… _that_ may relate back to your husband's death, but from my experience on the job everyone reacts to something like that differently. His solitude may have just been his way of protecting himself from feeling what he felt back when your husband died. I doubt you can accept the blame for it."

The older woman nodded slowly and smiled, her hand once again coming to Sara's, she patted it gently. "I can see from the way you talk not only do you know my son well, but you genuinely do care for him. I have to admit it's relief to know this. He always kept his love life very private from me, even when he was in high school, I knew he dated a little, and then he went off to college and I lost touch with it all – my attempts at prying always fell on deaf ears – though I don't imagine there were all that many girls. He was always a little different."

A laugh broke the din of the room, and Sara almost spit out the water she'd been sipping on. "I have to say your description of him is apt… And I love your son Mrs. Grissom; in fact I love him all the more because of his eccentricities."

The woman nodded silently, and then leaned in. "Elena please, and do you mind if I ask you something, dear?"

"No, not at all…" Sara sat back into her chair and relaxed, grateful that her anxiety was beginning to ebb away.

"How did he propose? He's so tight lipped I knew that if I asked him he would just look at me and give me that _Mom _he always throws my way when he wants me to stop snooping. He doesn't seem to realize that's what mother's are supposed to do. I mean, I don't want to meddle too much, but a little should be acceptable."

Another laugh sprang from Sara's mouth. "He proposed on a rollercoaster."

Mrs. Grissom rolled her eyes. "That's so typically Gilbert. Not terribly romantic, though, I thought I taught my boy better than that."

Sara shook her head and swallowed another gulp of water. "No, no… It was really sweet. And he is a romantic; he's just not ostentatious about it. It's the small things he does that mean the most. When we're off together, he usually picks a place out of town, and plans a surprise day trip. We'll go to a nice dinner, a nature walk…" one time he'd taken her to the body farm for fun, the slim brunette held back on telling his mother that though.

There were tears in Elena Grissom's eyes when Sara had finished.

"We got married that night in a small chapel in downtown Vegas."

"Can I get you ladies something?" A tall dark haired waiter leaned in and refilled Sara's glass, before pulling out his order pad.

Sara was about to respond when she felt a vibration at her side. She knew immediately it couldn't be good news, Grissom would only have called her if he didn't have a choice. She rolled her eyes and held up the offending piece of technology. "Can you give us a moment?"

The waiter seemed pissed, but smiled tensely. "Sure."

Sara flipped open the phone and brought it to her ear, but didn't even have a chance to say hello.

"I need you, now." There was a tremor of tension rippling through his voice. "I'll text you the address."

The younger woman stared at her mother in law sitting across the table from her. She was looking away and fiddling slightly with the knot in her scarf. "Gris, we haven't even had a chance to order dinner…"

"My mom will understand." He seemed to relax slightly, and his voice dropped. "How are things going?"

"Well they were going well until now."

"It'll be fine. I've been called away before. She'll understand."

"You're sure there's no one else, who can come in?" Dread was building in the pit of her stomach, she didn't want to have to run off on Elena Grissom but it appeared she may have no choice.

"I can't reach Catherine. Nick will be here soon. Greg's off. Warrick had that smash and grab before you pulled the Hirschoff case he's got an extra shift on all of us. I can't ask him to come back in and there's no one else." He sighed heavily into the phone. There is something strange here you need to take a look at, and the scene is huge. Give her a hug for me and tell her I'm sorry."

"Right…" Sara eyed the woman across the table from her and smiled tentatively as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. "I'm sorry. Big case and everyone else seems to be unavailable."

Mrs. Grissom's nodded politely. "I suspected as much. You're job is very demanding."

"Yeah well, so is my boss sometimes."

Mrs. Grissom grinned at this. "But I imagine his bark is worse than his bite."

A smirk crept across the younger woman's face. "Most days…"

Mrs. Grissom grabbed he daughter in law's hand, her cerulean eyes sparkling. "You take care of yourself. Make my son take some time off, and the two of you come to see me in Marina Del Rey."

"I'm really sorry about this. I really was looking forward to spending some time with you." Sara surprised herself when the words tumbled out of her mouth; the shortness of the meeting she'd been dreading earlier that morning left her with a sense of regret now. She genuinely wanted to get to know Elena Grissom more.

"Me too. Come to visit, there'll be no interruptions and we'll have some girl fun in Santa Monica – third street promenade is a great place to shop." She stood up and drew the younger woman with her.

"Thank you, I would love that." Sara reached into her bag and dropped a twenty onto the table.

Mrs. Grissom immediately retrieved it and stuffed it back into the brunette's bag. "I'm going to stay, have a light breakfast, and then head for the airport. You keep the twenty and spend it on a toy for my first grandchild."

Sara was at a total loss as for what say to that comment, so instead of replying she leaned in and gave the older woman a hug, said a simple goodbye for her and her husband and high-tailed it out of the restaurant.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** is in chapter 1.

RATING M. Mostly for the previous chapters. That said - there will probably be further reason for it later.

This is not beta'd as you can probably tell.

Thanks reviews are loved and appreciated… you all are awesome...

GSR... and includes season 7 stuff

I'm back home. Loved LA, already planning my next trip there.

Thanks for reading.

* * *

**Interlude 15**

"Sometimes it only takes one hit." Gil Grissom smirked at his wife. A slow grin spread across her full lops, and she followed it up with a well timed roll of her eyes.

At least he wasn't entirely in her black books.

Her face as she first entered the crime scene had born a scowl which, once her eyes had fallen on the miniature, was quickly swept away by her usual endless curiosity.

Not to say that he was forgiven by any means. A few digs mid-conversation had told him that it might not be that easy, but at least she was talking to him, and seemed to be warming to his minor attempts at humor.

"Well one hit or not, this is one musician who's going to have to retire his instrument." Two well manicured eyebrows knitted together, and she checked to see that they were alone before she dropped her voice and continued. "Your mother wants us to come visit sometime soon."

Grissom pulled out his camera and leaned over; snapping a few photos of items stored in the cupboard. They'd already bagged and tagged most of the evidence. "So it went well then."

She peeked at him over the table top, and past the congealing blood. "Well it was going well until I got called into work by my boss."

"Maybe your boss can make it up to you some how." His voice was husky, and had taken on an almost bedroom quality.

A slow shiver tracked down her spine, but she fought the sensation that had her wanting to bury herself in his arms forever. "Oh he's going to, don't you worry. But how will be my choice, bugman."

"I look forward to it Miss Sidle." He grinned.

The innuendo was not lost on her and Sara wondered if he would be as anticipatory if he knew what she had in mind. She'd already decided her method of repayment, all she needed was the time to put her plan into action. "We'll see." She returned his smile.

The air of mischievousness about her was not lost on the man standing over by the counter. Grissom was poised to make a comment when Sara reached for her vibrating cell.

"Sidle." She listened carefully for a moment and then returned it to its place in her vest. "That was Catherine. She needs me for something. Are you okay here?"

Puzzled, Gil Grissom checked the pantry and then turned around. "Is she alright? I've been trying to reach her."

Sara shrugged. "She sounded freaked actually. I'll go and meet her, and let you know what's up." She winked at him. "I mean, that's if my boss says I can leave."

"Go ahead, Greg should be here soon. I wasn't going to call him but we need the extra hands for a perimeter search."

"Great. I'll head back here as soon as I can." Stripping off her gloves she sealed them in an envelope and added it to the bag full of bindles placed next to the door. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty. Coyly, she approached Grissom and tucked it into his upper vest pocket.

"What's this for." He stared at the wadded up bill half dangling from his vest.

"Your mom told me to use it to buy a gift for her first grandchild." With that she laughed and left, a low groan from her husband following her out of the room.

Greg met her as she was leaving the property. It wasn't a surprise to her that he actually knew who Izzy Delancy was. He an even more eclectic taste in music than she did. After giving him a set of rapid fire instructions she moved out onto the street and hopped into the Denali, curiosity getting the better of her as she made her way over towards the seedier side of town.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Disclaimer: In chapter 1

Beta'd – by me… Sorry.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers.

This chapter earned its M rating. Forgive me.

Okay - it's weird where my head takes me sometimes. This chapter was not meant to be what it turned into. But sometimes I find the characters have a story they want me to tell. I guess this was one of those moments.

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing.

Thanks to all who have reviewed.

Opinions are always welcome as well.

* * *

**Interlude 16**

Sara stared at the blonde woman in front of her. Struck almost speechless, and with her heart pounding in her chest, the younger CSI resorted to doing what she did best: being a criminalist. "Catherine, doing it yourself is going to make anything you get inadmissible."

"Yeah. I know procedure. I didn't want a full investigation. I - I just want to know what happened." She looked like any moment she would come unhinged so Sara acquiesced.

"Okay… alright." She had no choice but to agree. Aside from being a colleague, Catherine Willows was a friend. And to Sara, it looked very much like that was what she needed at the moment.

They walked a little further. "Uh… I've got to get this stuff to the lab." She checked over her shoulder towards a waiting taxi. "Room 229. It's right up there. Please print it. And…" There was a pleading look in the older woman's eyes before her next words came out, "keep it between us?"

Sara nodded softly. "Okay…"

It was a heart felt "Thanks…" That escaped Catherine as she turned and made her way to the idling cab.

The slim brunette stood and watched as the vehicle pulled away, uncertain as to what she was going to tell Grissom. They'd been mid-collection when Catherine had called, asking Sara to come and give her a hand with something. She'd been mysterious, and now the younger woman knew why. Grissom had always, been very careful in his private life. Preferring to live a life of simplicity and solidarity, instead of dating and partying as their friend was prone to do. Sara thoroughly understood the woman's reluctance to tell Gil Grissom what had happened. She clearly didn't want to be judged. And a few bad choices, and personal blunders would leave her open to just that.

She made her way up the stairs and slipped the card key into the lock. The light flashed green and Sara moved reluctantly into the room.

One glance around the decrepit space and her skin immediately began to crawl. It was depressing and dirty and she was assaulted by emotion as she imagined what must have been going through her friend's mind, as she'd woken up to discover she'd probably been raped.

A shiver tracked painfully through her at the though. Her own first time hadn't exactly been consensual, nor had it been a rape. At least at the time she hadn't thought it was, but the dirt of that moment washed across her now, and she had to force herself to close the door and get to work.

"_Come on sweetcheeks, you know you want it!" His voice still echoed in her head._

_She'd been two years younger than Thomas Briar the third. He was tall, gorgeously blonde, with piercing blue eyes. He was the captain of the basketball team and an all around jock. No boy had every paid one iota of attention to her throughout her short stint in high school, so when he'd asked her to the senior prom her graduating year, she'd been blown away, and had accepted without thinking. _

_That had been a big mistake. Only after he'd pinned her up against the wall in some sleazy little no tell motel, did she realize what he was really after. _

"_Little virgin Sara…" He grinned pressing his mouth into hers, his tongue forcing its way in. _

_She could taste onions, and booze on his breath._

"_Little Geek girl. Come on princess. You know you want this. And who better to lose your cherry to than me?" He held her hands above her head and hiked up her dress with little effort._

_Her struggles had been for naught. She may have been graduating along with the rest of them, but at a physically immature 15 she was hardly a match for the tall solidly built 17 year-old._

_Removing her underwear had clearly not been a priority. She remembered the rasp of a zipper, and then blinding pain as he shoved aside her panties, and forced himself inside her. _

_Her cries had gone unnoticed amidst his satisfied grunts and moans. Her mind had wandered after the first few moments of total agony, and before she knew it he was done, a wet and sticky trail of semen staining her legs and clothes as he shoved her onto the bed and left the room._

_She'd lain there in the darkness for the whole night, floating between bone wracking sobs, and horrified numbness. The next morning she made her way back to her foster home, still aching, terrified and praying desperately that she wouldn't get pregnant. _

_No one had noticed the change in her. But she'd immediately signed up for two summer courses at Harvard, gotten permission from child services to move there early, and had been gone within the week. No one was the wiser._

_Three weeks later, when her period had came, Sara Sidle had cried, and promised herself no man would ever take away her dignity again. And with that she put the entire ordeal out of her mind. _

That is until had entered the hotel room.

Closing her eyes she forced herself to forget again and moved about the space on autopilot; pushing back the onslaught of memories and the feelings that accompanied them.

Less than an hour later she'd collected her samples, printed and sprayed the room. Luminol had practically lit up the entire place. She would definitely need a shower when she got back home.

The sheets appeared to have been used and reused, without being laundered, and the number of fresh and relatively fresh samples she'd collected was overwhelming. The slim brunette hoped fervently that none of them belonged to her friend.

Packing her things into a waiting bag, she picked up her items, and pulled the door closed behind her.

Wiping angrily at the traitorous tear that had escaped run down her cheek, she realized that somewhere along the way she would have to face her husband and had no clue what she was going to tell him.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Disclaimer: In chapter 1

Beta'd – by me… urgh! That can't be good.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers – maybe beyond – depends on how long winded I get. I have two more stories clawing to get out.

This chapter is fluff light, reality heavy, and probably nonsensical.

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing.

Thanks to all who have reviewed.

And remember, your opinions are always welcome as well.

* * *

**Interlude 17**

"Maybe we should release it to the media. Maybe someone unwittingly made a component of the miniature, if they came forward that could help us." Ecklie walked in unannounced, the harsh overhead light glinted off his bald head making him look freakish.

"What's the point of gratifying the murderer with free publicity?"

Sara cringed inwardly at her husband's words, hoping the conversation wouldn't turn into a pissing match.

"Izzy Delancy is famous. The press wants answers." Ecklie leaned forward his hands gripping the edge of the table.

"Don't we all." Grissom countered.

Typical Gil Grissom, another wince flashed across Sara's face as she did her best to study the small model in front of her, all the while, mentally willing the Assistant Director to turn and leave.

His ESP seemed to be on the fritz, but he did do something the young criminalist didn't expect. "This is your case too, Sara, what do you think?"

She was at a momentary loss, but the answer was a no brainer. "I agree with Grissom." She grinned at him slightly hoping he would accept this and just go away.

Conrad Ecklie's hands moved to his hips and he shook his head, moderately pissed off. His words had a hint of knowing to them. "Of course you do." He turned and left, the room leaving two confused CSIs in his wake.

Sara looked at her husband, her full lips were moving, but nothing was coming out.

"He doesn't know." Two blue eyes glinted, and a small smirk spread across his lips.

"You're sure?" She was looking for confirmation while her head was recounting all the times they could have been seen out in public together. There were a limited few, and all of them could be easily explained away as a friendly colleague breakfast, lunch or dinner. That's why they had allowed it to happen in the first place. As a couple they were nothing if not thorough, both on the job as well as in the covert plot that had become their private lives. It had been a long established rule that if they were going to do anything that would to appear even slightly romantic; they headed out of town for it.

"He doesn't. He may suspect. But if he had proof of anything, you know he'd have our asses hauled in to the Sheriff's office pronto." He pulled the miniature over to look at it a little more closely.

"Okay…" There was an uncertainty in her voice that caused him to look up at her.

"Not that the Sheriff would have an issue with it. In fact I think he probably couldn't care less either way. Our track record speaks for itself, Dear." He dropped his voice to barely audible when he hit the term of endearment.

Initially, after Brass' injury he'd wanted to tell the crew about their relationship, and marriage. He'd also wanted to begin working on a family. Sara had agreed momentarily, but convinced him the next morning that while the family thing was something she would agree to, on the work front it might be better to let things go on as they were. He'd agreed reluctantly; at least to the second part. The fact that his wife had decided to stay off the patch elated him, though he'd been very low key about that fact. No sense in making a big issue about it. They would become parent's if and when it was supposed to happen. Big plans and excitement, led to expectation, and pressure, all of which had a tendency to lead to disappointment. Sara had grinned as she dropped the remaining prescription into the trash, then dragged him back to bed to celebrate the freedom of going without – she'd said. Mind you the night before they'd done without as well, but for Grissom it was a moot point, for any celebration of that particular nature was something he wasn't going to argue against – ever.

"Okay…" She grinned tightly.

The grin disappeared entirely at his next words. "So what was up with Catherine? Did you find out why I couldn't get in touch with her this morning?"

It was a good thing he'd returned his attention to the miniature. It took the slim brunette a moment to regain her composure as flashes of memory from her earlier recollection assaulted her, she would have to tell him everything eventually. "Uh… well… yeah."

Grissom dropped the magnifying glass he'd been holding, and turned to the woman beside him; his full attention on her now. "Alright, let's hear it."

Brown eyes studied blue for a moment, before she answered. "Uh…" She had no idea what to say. When Sara had agreed to keep it between her and the older woman, she hadn't even though about the repercussions of that promise to her own relationship. Now with her husband/supervisor waiting expectantly for an explanation, she realized that agreeing had put her in a difficult position. She didn't like having secrets from the man she shared a bed and a life with. "Well…"

Silence sat like a massive boulder in the middle of the room.

"You're probably going to be upset with me for this one." Honesty really was the best policy here, she assured herself.

Gil Grissom, rarely saw his wife flustered, it was both intriguing and a cause for concern. The next sentence out of her mouth didn't help matters.

"Catherine asked me not to anyone."

"What?" He was incredulous.

"You heard me."

"Wait a minute; she calls you, after I've been trying to get in touch with her all morning. She expects you to drop everything you're doing and run to her, even though you're working a crime scene that she should have been at as well, and then she asks you to keep it a secret from me?"

Sara shrugged, knowing full well from the look in her husband's eyes, that her early supposition was right; he was pissed. "Well not from you, perse… She simply asked me to keep it between her and I, for the time being."

"I don't understand," he shook his head. "Was it personal or work related?"

"Both."

Her reply only seemed to make him more angry. "How is that possible?"

A heavy sigh escaped the young woman. "Okay, look, I can't tell you right now. It was stupid of me to agree, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. In retrospect, I should have encouraged her to tell you, but hindsight is 20/20, Babe. Let me just say, that it was personal in nature, but should be dealt with at the lab." She was totally rambling by the time she was done.

"I have no idea what that means Sara, and damn straight you should have told her to talk to me. Her track record here isn't exemplary. If she's misusing lab resources for something personal we could both get in trouble just knowing about it."

She avoided telling him, that technically, he didn't know anything about what was going on. But the slim brunette was pretty certain that that would only serve to make a little more steam come out of his ears. "Let me talk to her. I'll see if I can get her to come to you." Moving in a little closer to her husband she squeezed his shoulder slightly. "Don't make me break a confidence. I wouldn't ask you to." Her words weren't pleading at all, only truthful.

Still angry, Grissom shrugged her hand away, all the while mentally cursing Catherine for putting them in their present position. "Fine!"

The word itself held a totally different meaning when yelled. In fact it very much meant the opposite.

Sara moved away, understanding that at least a little of the frustration her husband was feeling, had to have something to do with the small diorama sitting on the table in front of him.

One of the lab rats stopped and stared at the two of them for a moment before moving on.

She didn't like leaving issues unresolved, but at the moment there seemed to be little else to do about the burgeoning situation. To stick around would only cause a blow up that would be entertaining for the rest of the lab, but would require hazmat suit cleanup on the relationship front. "I have some things to take care of." She announced and turned on her heel.

She'd made it almost to the door, when she heard a soft, "I'm sorry…" ripple through the room.

Sara turned, surprise etched into her face. She thought for sure this would turn into a grudge match of sorts.

"It's not you I'm mad at. It's the situation." He sighed and slumped back into his chair. This new case was going to be a bitch. "I lost my temper for a variety of reasons. I'm not saying that Catherine wasn't wrong, and, Sara, you shouldn't have agreed to keep her confidence if it involves the lab, but…. I know it's not all your fault."

She smiled softly at him, and turned to leave again.

"I love you." He said it so softly, it was almost imperceptible.

A full smile lit up her face. "Me too…" Her eyes trailed liberally around the hallway before she leaned in the doorway and blew him a kiss. Her voice was husky. "Later, Bugman..."

With that – she was gone.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Disclaimer: In chapter 1

Beta'd – by me… urgh! That can't be good.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers – maybe beyond – depends on how long winded I get. I have two more stories clawing to get out.

Bonding chapter? Dunno.

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing.

Thanks to all who have reviewed.

And remember, your opinions are always welcome as well.

**Interlude 18**

"How did everything go?" Sara'd found Catherine making her way down the corridor. There was a moment of surprise before the other woman smiled uncertainly at her.

"Still waiting on some of the results, but most of them have come back negative." The slim blonde looked anywhere but at the brunette beside her.

"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Sara cast a look at the shorter woman, and caught her almost imperceptible nod. "So what tests are you still waiting on?"

"Swabs from Hodges." The words were almost whispered.

The younger CSI bobbed her head and followed her friend into the locker room. "Okay, so other than the frustration of having to wait for test results all day, how are you doing? Are you in any pain? Is there any bruising?"

Catherine took stock of herself. She'd been running on autopilot since early morning hadn't really paid any attention beyond taking her samples and a quick cursory inspection of her legs. There hadn't been any bruising at the time, and aside from the residual fog and lethargy of the drug she'd been fed, there were no unusual aches. All of this confirming what she was coming to expect – she hadn't been raped. But if that was the case, then why had she been taken in the first place? "I'm fine."

It was the second time Sara'd heard that term used in less than an hour, and both times it had been a lie. She could tell by Catherine's behavior that things were not fine. But it was also the answer she had expected from the tough as nails woman. Maneuvering her way around the bench Sara placed her hand the older CSI's shoulder. "You should tell Gris. Something like this, he needs to be made aware of, Cath."

Watery blue eyes studied brown for a moment. "I will. Just let me get the last test back from Hodges, and I'll tell him." She checked her watch, and winced. "Lindsay."

"Is she okay?" Sara cast a concerned glance at her friend.

"Yeah, yeah fine…" She flipped her lock open hurriedly. "I was supposed to watch her rehearsal. I have to go and pick her up and I'm already late. She's going to be upset. Can we talk later?"

"Have you been home at all?" Sara enquired, as she watched Catherine reach into her locker and grab her purse and keys. "No… You?"

Sara shook her head. "I think I'm heading into my 5th shift or something. I've lost count. I'm thinking of just pitching a tent here."

"I hear you." The petite blonde slipped her purse over her shoulder and slammed her locker shut. "I'm gonna pick up Linds, go home, have some dinner, grab a shower and a nap, and I'll see you tonight."

"You sure you shouldn't maybe just go to the hospital?" She knew the suggestion would fall on deaf ears. "I can go pick up Lindsay if you'd like…"

Catherine stopped at the door. "No. Thanks, but I'm alright…Really…" She turned to leave and then spun back. "And Sara…? Thanks for everything. I promise to talk to Gris on shift tonight, okay?"

The slim brunette nodded, dropped onto the bench, and watched as her friend disappeared out of view. Then she bent forward and banged her head on the locker door in front of her. How did she get herself into situations like this?

Sara was midway towards working a dent into her locker, when her pocket vibrated. Reaching into the soft folds of her jacket, she pulled out her cell. The screen read: _Go home and get some sleep. I'll join you soon. Love G. _

The sun had already set, and they'd only manage a few hours before having to head back to the lab, but any time together was better than none at all. A small smile graced her weary face and she began to type. A moment later she hit send.

A few rooms away Gil Grissom stared at his own cell, a smirk grew across his face and his chest swelled, as he read the words etched into the text message. _Great idea, Bugman. I'll be waiting with bated breath. Love S._

_TBC_


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Disclaimer: In chapter 1

Beta'd – by me… and take into consideration the fact that most of the time I write this late, late at night in a dark room while my eyes are only half open. So if you receive two notifications for the same chapter that generally means I found a boo boo after posting and am just fixing it up.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers – maybe beyond – depends on how long winded I get. I have two more stories clawing to get out.

Moderately risqué chapter I suspect. Fluffage…

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing.

Thanks to all who have reviewed.

And remember, your opinions are always welcome as well.

**Interlude 19**

There was a piece of warm quiche waiting for Grissom when he returned to his office. It was sitting on a plate, nestled amongst a fresh croissant and a steaming cup of coffee. His mouth watered at the sight and was followed up by a loud growl that emanated from somewhere in his gastric region.

His intention to head home and indulge in the taste of his partner's skin had been a pipe dream at best. It had left him feeling emotionally hungry. The fact that he hadn't eaten in at least 12 hours had left him physically starving. A dried bagel had sufficed some time around 9 pm.

Shortly after Sara had left the lab, he'd gotten a frenzied call from Catherine. Warrick had come in early to finish up some paperwork, and had caught him on his way out of the building already on his way to the scene. Volunteering to go in Grissom's place the younger CSI had high-tailed it to the accident site, a promise to call with details falling from his mouth as he ran out the door.

What he'd gathered from his brief and chaotic phone call with Catherine was that her daughter, Lindsay, had been taken. He couldn't in all good conscience leave knowing this, so he'd called Brass to apprise him of the situation, and then hunkered down with some paperwork to wait for Warrick's call.

The call never came. Instead, he'd been faced with a frantic Catherine as they returned to the lab. After hearing the entire story including the drugging and potential rape earlier that morning, right up to the test results, he'd arranged for transport of both accident vehicles to be brought in, called Nick into work early and began looking into old case files for any indicators as to who would want to take revenge on his friend.

It had been a waiting game, with Grissom taking particular care to keep a close eye on Catherine. The time frame between kidnapping and rescue of the younger Willows was amazingly short. In fact, by the time the shift started proper, the young girl was already in emergency being examined for injuries, after fingerprints, and the abduction photo provided enough information for the team to find her.

Now all that was left was finding some connection between the who and the why.

Dropping into his chair Grissom clutched at the fork and knife that had been paced beside the quiche. The smell was wondrously familiar. It had to have been from Lutece. Sara had befriended the chef there on a case a few years back, and every once in a while she would call up and order one of his prize winning quiches as a special treat.

The first bite melted in his mouth.

"I ate mine alone." Sara stood leaning up against the doorway. The could have been words of war, but they were accompanied by a slight smirk.

"Sorry." Grissom mumbled around a fluffy mouthful of ham, cheese and eggs. "I never did make it home."

She cast a glance over her shoulder. "Yeah… someone's side of the bed was mysteriously empty when I woke up this evening."

The graying entomologist swallowed another bite. "You have no idea how sad that makes me, Mrs. Grissom."

She rolled her eyes. "Well then you'll have to figure out some way to make it up to both of us."

A sly grin lit up Gil Grissom's face. "Consider it done."

"Promises, promises." The slim brunette teased, then her mood sobered. "I hear you had an adventure here while I was in dreamland."

He looked at her speculatively. "Yeah." He broke off a piece of flakey croissant and stuffed it in his mouth, followed by a thick gulp of sweet milky coffee. "Thankfully it was over quickly."

"You could have called me in you know."

Another mouthful of quiche and croissant was washed down with a gulp of coffee. "You needed your sleep, and I needed you fresh."

Sara nodded, and toed the floor in front of her. "Did Cath tell you about everything?"

"Yeah. But all the test results came back negative, so we're thinking there was some other reason for her initial abduction. She thinks it has something to do with Sam Braun."

"Nick and Warrick brought me up to speed… Is Lindsay okay?" Sara tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and stepped into the room, this time resting her back up against the doorframe.

"She's fine. Cath's a mess, but who wouldn't be?" Bright blue eyes flashed at the woman standing in the doorway. "You can come in you know. I don't bite." He indicated the chair in front of him.

The young CSI's mind tripped back to the last time they'd made love. Her warm lace covered body sprawled languorously over soft satin sheets. Her lover perched above her, the feel of his teeth and lips on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, as he nipped and kissed his way up the inside of both of them. His actions had left her breathless, and wanting. "That's a lie Bugman and you know it." Her voice had taken on a deep lustful tone that almost caused him to choke on the food he was swallowing. The look in her chocolate eyes left little doubt as to the memory that had stolen her attention away momentarily.

Grissom's eyebrows practically reached his hairline, and he swallowed deeply, unclogging the last of his half masticated croissant from his esophagus. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his office, lay her spread eagle on his desk, and reenact, the memory both had just shared.

Mock sorrow stretched across her face. "Besides, my boss might get upset – I'm on a case. That is unless, he wants me to drop it and help out on the Willow's case."

"Nick and Warrick are dealing with Lindsay's case. I still need you on Izzy Delancy."

She grinned. "I figured as much. In that case, I need you in the AV room when you're done your dinner." Turning she left the room.

A low moan escaped the man behind the desk. He knew better than to think about anything even remotely intimate when he was at work. The fallout was generally difficult to hide and hugely embarrassing. He crossed his legs and tried to focus in the last few bites of his food; anything, to get his mind off of his wife, flat surfaces, and their carnal escapades. It was going to be a long night.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Beta'd – by me… and take into consideration the fact that most of the time I write this late, late at night in a dark room while my eyes are only half open. So if you receive two notifications for the same chapter that generally means I found a boo boo after posting and am just fixing it up.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers – maybe beyond – depends on how long winded I get. I have two more stories clawing to get out.

This chapter earned the story's M rating, so consider your self warned. Never sure where my mind is going to take me... and well this is what you get from that - it was clearly kidnapped and taken to the land of the vertical limbo.

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing.

Thanks to all who have reviewed.

And remember, your opinions are always welcome as well.

* * *

"After seeing the way Izzy Delancy lived his life, I can say that my belief in the sanctity of marriage is shaken." Sara leaned up against the door frame of her husband's office, a sheaf of papers carefully stowed in a large plastic baggy that hung loosely from her hands.

The pair of glasses carefully perched on Grissom's nose, were immediately removed and placed on the desk in front of him. "Is there anything I can do to restore your faith in the union?"

She winked. "Maybe, but that will have to wait until later."

"Mmmm…." He pursed his lips, his mind already developing a series of ways to improve her faith. "That will give me a little time to makes some plans then."

"Do those plans involve whipped cream and strawberries, Dr. Grissom?"

A bolt of excitement ran directly from his head to somewhere best not mentioned in certain social circles. Maintaining an impassive face, Gil Grissom folded his hands on the desk in front of him, all the while trying to shake the images she was planting in his mind. "They could…"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They should."

With the utterance of those two words he gave up his resolve, a guttural moan escaping his already constricted chest. They'd gone too long without being together, and as a reminder of this, she'd been teasing him all night long; A trail of cool fingers across the back of his neck when she'd silently entered the layout room behind him, unnecessary pressure on his lower region as she squeezed between him and the table in the AV room, warm breath on his ear as she leaned in and whispered a joke to him, her tongue inadvertently flicking out and catching his lobe for an instant. It had been a well designed and well executed plan meant to torture him. He was certain of it. By the time 5am had rolled about, rational thought had become impossible, so as a last ditch effort to save his sanity he'd sent his wife out with Sofia on an early morning call to question Dusty De Costa and her son Sven. It had worked wonders for the short time she'd been gone, but now she was back and already wreaking havoc on his fully strained libido.

Sara tossed the baggy on the desk. "We may have a suspect. The son… Sven…it seems he's really into models and architecture. Sofia went to pick him up at an early morning art club meeting at school; she's on her way back to PD with him."

The short car ride to PD had been tensely silent, but the dispositions if the two travelers had nothing to do with anger. It wasn't until they had reached the observation room off to the side of interview room 3, that they began to converse.

"Did you get to see the video Greg showed me? I told him to bring it to you while I was on my way out to the De Costa residence." Sara was leaning up against the cool metal wall, her fingers tracing small circles over its smooth surface. In the observation room, Sofia and Sven sat quietly staring each other down. His legal counsel was on her way, but had yet to arrive. The interview couldn't begin without her being present.

"I did. It was standard fare. It's the kind of stuff that feeds the popularity of most stars but there wasn't anything terribly shocking in it." Grissom had moved up behind Sara, and had placed his hands tentatively on her hips. His chin rested on her shoulder, and before he could stop himself, he'd begun trailing delicate kisses along her neck.

It was Sara's turn to moan, and she did, her eyes closing involuntarily as she drank in the sensation. "You, Dr. Grissom, are a very bad man."

"Me?" He feigned surprise; his whispers danced along her neck and sent shivers down her spine. "You Mrs. Grissom have been inexcusably bad all night." He rethought his words and then added. "Bad, but in a very good way…" He kissed her neck again, and slipped his hands up under the back of her shirt. Intently, he began tracing small invisible designs on her back with his thick strong fingers.

Another moan slipped from her mouth, and he knew he had her. If there was one thing Sara couldn't resist it was his feather soft touch on her back. This was a little trick he'd learned very early on in their relationship. His fingers, his mouth, running along the silky skin of her spine drove her completely nuts.

A short buzz startled the two of them out of their romantic oasis. Sofia's voice broke across the intercom. "His representation is hung up for about 15 minutes I'm getting him a drink."

Grissom's hand hit the intercom button. "Okay…" He released it; his mouth returning to its earlier task.

"We're going to get caught and that will land our asses in the Sheriff's office faster than you can say Ecklie." Sara intoned between the sounds of her own soft sighs.

"Locked the door…" Grissom mumbled into a halo of silky brown hair, his limber fingers making their way up the front of his wife's shirt to rasp their way across the delicate lace of her bra.

This drew a loud gasp from the woman in his embrace. "This is highly inappropriate Bossman. We need to stop." she managed once she could breathe again.

"Have you had a break yet? Dinner?"

His touch rendered her speechless. Sara shook her head.

"Break time, then." His face nuzzled into the nape of her neck where he planted a series of light kisses. Amidst their limited conversation, Grissom had managed to both unbutton, and unzip her pants, and was in the process of sliding them down her legs when he saw Sofia re-enter the interview room, and exit once again - this time with Sven.

They were truly alone now…

Not that he'd ever thought about it before that moment, but he was suddenly grateful that there were no cameras in the observation room, and equally as thankful that both panes of glass, the one in the window and the one in the door, were made of two way mirrors that were facing out.

"Oh God…" Sara gasped, as his fingers hit paydirt. "Don't stop. That feels sooo good." Sara groaned as her knees suddenly went weak and she slumped up against the cool dark wall, her slim delicate hands splayed out across it helping her remain upright.

"Which is it Mrs. Grissom. I sense you need to make up your mind." He whispered into her ear, his fingers sketching intense circles around a particularly sensitive nub. "First you tell me to stop. Then you tell me not to." One finger slipped deep inside Sara and a small cry emanated from her.

"Don't stop." With those words Grissom himself was lost. His pants followed hers downward and he was inside her almost instantly; his pent up frustration over the previous 72 hours, draining with each consecutive thrust.

"I love you." Grissom announced through clenched teeth, and mere moments later he felt her slick walls begin to tighten around him.

Sara's reply was indistinguishable in between her muffled huffs.

After burying himself in her one last time, he felt his own release come in tandem with hers.

Both disappeared momentarily into the bliss of their shared union, and were immediately drawn back to reality by the reappearance of the blonde detective and her charge on the other side of the mirror. A second later another woman joined them.

By that time Grissom had already redressed himself, and was in the process of helping his wife do the same.

As the interview started, the observers had just managed to sort themselves out when Sara leaned in. "I reiterate Bugman, you've been very, very bad."

He cleared his voice and innocently pointed out, "That's not what you were saying less than a minute ago."

Unable to stifle her giggle, Sara hauled off and punched her husband in the arm. "You are so going to pay for that."

"Maybe, but hopefully I've restored your faith in the sanctity of marriage…"

"Well… maybe a little…" she grinned, her attention split between the goings on in the other room and the man beside her.

"Well then the payback will have been worth it." He chuckled into her hair and then kissed her cheek before moving to stand a respectable distance away.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Beta'd – by me… and take into consideration the fact that most of the time I write this late, late at night in a dark room while my eyes are only half open. So if you receive two notifications for the same chapter that generally means I found a boo boo after posting and am just fixing it up.

Anything up to season 8 is fair game in terms of spoilers – maybe beyond – depends on how long winded I get. I have two more stories clawing to get out.

This chapter was another one of those enigmas – I knew what I wanted to establish with it, and from that point on the characters wrote the rest. Weird I know.

As always reviews are adored and keep me writing – some or you are expecially diligent about it and I love you dearly for it. Thanks to all who have reviewed.

And remember, your opinions are always welcome as well.

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**Interlude 21**

The delicate scent of jasmine invaded his nostrils as he entered their cool comfortable home. The scent, decided upon by his wife a few months previously, was intended to be a gentle pick-me-up after an insanely long number of shifts. She'd read it in a book somewhere.

Closing the door behind him, Grissom rubbed his eyes. He was beyond exhausted to the point where his body didn't know how tired he really was and he would undoubtedly sleep like the dead once he finally made it between the sheets.

Sara had drawn the curtains before she left to keep out the heat of the searing Nevada sun so he tapped on the small lamp on the hallway table as he passed, and noted that her keys weren't in the bowl where she usually left them.

Obviously, the woman he shared his life with wasn't home yet.

That was odd, in and of itself, as she'd left just before him after sadly dropping the news that they seemed to be out of suspects. This was something he was at loath to accept, so he'd stuck around a little longer, went over the miniature for a millionth time and then, after finding nothing, retired it for the day.

Feeling for the phone in his pocket, he contemplated calling her to see if she was alright. It was a reflexive action after the mess with Brass, and he knew he was being paranoid. There could be any number of reasons why she wasn't home yet; groceries, an early lunch pick up, getting clothes from the cleaners…

Pulling the phone out he dropped it on the counter, slipped his shoes off and draped his jacket over one of the nearby barstools on his way to the bathroom. It had been forever since he'd showered, and his and Sara's carnal adventure in the observation room earlier that day meant his underwear had been sticking to him ever since.

She'd had laughed at him when he's lamented about it over a shared coffee just before the end of shift. She'd laughed even harder when he mentioned that there wasn't a replacement pair of boxers in his locker. So much for the feminine sympathy he'd been hoping for.

Entering their bathroom, he flipped the shower on, dropped his clothes on the floor and then finally, with a heavily satisfied sigh, stepped under the pounding water; visions of curling up next to his wife dancing in his head.

* * *

Two very dark, very cute, and very wary brown eyes stared up at him. The upturned nose perched prominently on its face gave the owner a very sweet look, while the long willowy legs looked ready to bolt at any moment.

Gil Grissom's very concerned voice broke the din of the town house… "Sara!"

"Hey…" She made her way around the corner in record time; a bright smile plastered on her face, and very little other than a red lace thong, and matching tank on her body.

Gil Grissom was speechless as his libido jumped into overdrive and he almost completely forgot about the two brown eyes staring up at him; that is until he heard a soft snort followed by a humph as the tall creature dropped onto the floor. "What is this…?"

"That is Bruno." She made her way over to him; her soft food falls drawing the lanky boxer's attention to her as she made her approach. "And I think he's offended you called him an _it_." She bent over and scratched the auburn and white dog behind the ears. "Isn't that right, boy?"

"Tell me we're babysitting, him…Or that you found him wandering the streets and brought him home to call his owner."

Sara simply smiled at him, her lithe form leaning up against the hallway wall.

Grissom squinted at her and leaned over to check the tags dangling around the large beast's neck:_ Bruno Grissom, 2463 Burnt Tundra Way, Las Vegas, Nevada. _"Sara…" Her name came out as an angry grumble.

"Look…" She cut him off, her hand immediately going to the dog's head as he rose in response to the tone of he husband's voice. "He's sweet. He's neutered. He's toilet trained, command trained, used to being home alone, great with kids and babies, and still a puppy though he won't get any bigger."

Grissom's hand cut across his mouth his head shaking at the same time. "Sara…"

"And," she added. "They were going to put him down if he didn't find a home. He only had 24 hours left. His original family moved to Hong Kong because the father is a pilot and that's where his new airline is situated out of. They loved him desperately but had to give him up because they couldn't take him. He's only a year old, Babe, and yesterday was his birthday."

"He's huge." Grissom couldn't resist, as he reached out and rubbed one silky soft ear. "You're huge…" He repeated staring into the soft brown eyes.

"You can consider this payback for the mom fiasco…" There was a bargaining tone to her voice as she winked at her husband and then slipped her arm around the large dog.

Bruno in turn gave her a large wet kiss right on the nose, as a thank you for the attention and Sara rubbed it away with a laugh.

"Hey – she's my wife." He told the boxer, and with that leaned in and kissed her on the mouth possessively. A resigned sigh escaped him. "I thought payback was going to be about strawberries and whipped cream."

Sara giggled huskily at the petulant disappointment in her husband's voice. "Ahh… no that was supposed to be an attempt to restore my faith in the sanctity of marriage, and that would have let _you_ off too easily." She leaned in and whispered seductively into his ear. "However, I have a bowlful of each in the bedroom, Dr. Grissom."

At her comment, shiver of excitement headed southward, and Gil Grissom swallowed hard, "And Bruno?"

"Bruno, bed…" She pointed out into the living room and both watched as the large dog got up and headed out to a large paw and bone embroidered cushion placed on the floor near the couch. Less than a minute later the boxer was curled up and already asleep.

"I guess I should be grateful you didn't bring home the entire pound." The exhausted entomologist ground out, as he actually lifted his wife off of her feet and tossed her fireman style over his shoulder. A scream of delighted surprise escaped Sara as he carried her towards the bedroom, his fatigue forgotten for the time being.

"Gris let me down, this is crazy and you're going to drop me." He did let her down a second later by tossing her rather roughly onto her side of the bed, where she bounced and let out a soft giggle. "Caveman…" She intoned.

Eyeing the bowls on the bedside table Grissom leaned in and kissed her languidly. "Close your eyes…and keep them that way." He whispered in between tastes of his wife.

Once she'd done as she was told, he reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a black velvet bag. Removing the object inside it, he took one of her hands and planting a trail of kisses up her arm, he lifted it over her head. Sara was so lost in the sensation that before she knew what was going on, a pink furry handcuff had been attached to her wrist and subsequently, to the lower half of the bed's headboard. "Gil Grissom…" There was a lilt of excitement in her voice as she feigned anger.

"Payback is a bitch, Mrs. Grissom…" He told her, as he reached for the whipped cream.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer in Chapter 1**

AN: Okay these two are horndogs… that's all I'm saying.

Not beta'd so read with caution, and enjoy any errors that may be there. Remember perfection is boring.

Thanks to all that are reading this and reviewing. You keep me writing.

This is another sort of M chapter.

**Interlude 22**

"There's whipped cream in my ear."

Two blue eyes looked horrified, and then sparkled in amusement. Five seconds later Sara Sidle was pinned to the bed, her breath coming in short gasps as she giggled uncontrollably.

"Mmmm…" A soft wet tongue moved its' way up a long slender throat. "Delicious." Grissom suckled a modicum of the white stuff from its place on the tip of Sara's earlobe, and then growled as he planted crazy kisses along her jawline. His ministrations suddenly turned gentle and his intent more passionate than playful.

A soft moan shuddered its way out of Sara's chest. Long slim fingers worked their way over Grissom's bare torso, tickling and teasing, as she affixed her mouth to his in a slowly indulgent kiss.

They were both well rested after having spent the better part of the day actually sleeping. The sun was hanging low in the sky and Las Vegas was slipping from scorching towards relatively manageable.

"I love you Mrs. Grissom." The words rolled from Gil Grissom's mouth as naturally as breathing.

Sara didn't answer; instead she tugged her husband down on top of her, her body gratefully accepting his weight, and molding itself to his. The room temperature suddenly began to rise. "Show me." Her voice was husky as she whispered the words.

A groan slipped from between his lips and he was setting out to fulfill her request when the phone on his bedside table went off. Ignoring it was foremost on his mind, but Sara reached one long fingered hand out and grabbed it off the hook. Then she immediately put it to his ear forcing him to answer.

"Grissom." Feeling vengeful for the allowed interruption of their carnal pursuits, he dropped his full weight on onto the woman underneath him, drawing a tight _"oof"_ out of her.

A minor giggle escaped her but Grissom muffled it with one large hand.

It was Jim Brass, and the bulk of their call was punctuated by grunts, hums and haws. "Is Catherine okay?"

This question immediately drew Sara attention and she stopped her squirming and focused on listening.

"Okay. I'll get dressed and head over there."

There was a pause and Sara managed to catch only snatches of conversation.

"Oh…" Grissom leaned in and bussed his wife lightly on the forehead before climbing off of her and sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Okay… Yeah… I'll take care of it," With that he hung up.

"That doesn't sound good." It was a statement of fact.

"It isn't." Inadvertently, Grissom's hand went to her arm and he massaged it as if the feel of her skin mingled with his, was a balm. "Sam Braun is dead. Catherine was there when he was shot down."

"Holy shit." She swung her legs around and perched beside him on the bed. "Is she alright?" The slim brunette was on her feet immediately, and began tossing clothing out of their dresser onto the bed. "I'll get dressed. We can go together or if you want I can process the scene. Do you need to go to the hospital? Does someone need to go check on Lindsay?"

Grissom's hand on her arm stopped her. "Cath's fine she's at PD with Brass, but apparently she's heading home in a few minutes. Lindsay's with her sister. There's nothing to investigate. There were people watching, Joe Hirschoff was the one who shot him and he was taken out by one of Sam's bodyguards."

"Joe Hirschoff? From my case?" Worried chocolate eyes studied him.

"Yeah. The whole thing with Lindsay, and the mock rape, was apparently because of his partner's suicide."

Sara shook her head, uncertainly.

"From what Jim gathered, Sam double crossed Hirschoff and his partner in some business dealing, this resulted in Robert O'Brien's suicide." He stared darkly at his wife. "He blamed Sam for his lover's death."

"And rightly so, I suppose." Sara stared darkly at her husband. "…although O'Brien's illness probably had a lot to do with it."

"Who knows what goes through the mind of someone suicidal, and for that matter the minds of the people left behind." He leaned in and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Joe Hirschoff was left with nothing and no one. I guess he felt this was his only option."

"Oh God… Poor Cath. I mean I know they weren't all that close but he was still her father." Sara stripped off the tank and underwear she's slipped on before bed, and scooped up the whipped cream covered remnants of little red number they'd both enjoyed earlier that morning.

"Well Sam's been walking a fine line between gangster and businessman for many years, not that I don't feel sorry he's gone, but it was inevitable I expect. I think Catherine probably knew that too." Grissom took the undergarments from his wife's hand and tossed them in the hamper, his eyes drifting admiringly to the naked woman before him. "I'm going to have Warrick come in tonight. He was supposed to take two days off, but I think Cath will need the time to sort through a few things." Leaning in he cupped one smooth breast almost reverently, and then slipped both his hands around her back before giving her a leisurely kiss. "I'm going to get dressed, pass by her house, and then head in early. Why don't you stay and get a few hours more sleep."

Sara shook her head against his t-shirt clad chest. "No… I won't be able to sleep." Pulling away she slipped her arm through his and led him towards the bathroom. "I'm going to walk Bruno; he probably needs to go pee. Then take him over to Mrs. Chan's house… I introduced him to her yesterday and she loves him. She said she'll take him out in the morning for a pee and if we get tied up he can spend the day with her. She told me she has always wanted a dog just couldn't really afford to keep him on her retirement benefits – I think she likes the slots a little too much."

Grissom's eyes narrowed and he stopped his wife in her tracks, his hands moving to her arms he turned her to look at him. "You've been planning this for a while."

A mischievous grin spread across the slender brunette's face. "No too long." It was time to come clean, so she sighed. "I actually met him a week ago on that case with the vet. When we went to the pound to pick up the guy, there was Bruno and he was so sad. I immediately fell in love and knew we could give him a good home. I never got the chance to talk to you about it, with your mom and all that."

"I'm not sure how I feel about having to share you with another man… Even though he's a furry quadruped." The graying entomologist leaned in and pressed his lips to his wife's forehead.

"Don't worry, Bugman; you're the only guy for me." She giggled slightly. "Besides Dr. Grissom I sense you need to learn to share a little."

"I know how to share…" He put his hand onto the small of her back and nudged her towards the bathroom. "…right now I'm going to share the shower with you…" He wagged his eyebrows at her.

The slim brunette swung around and threw her arms around her husband's neck. Leaning in she whispered suggestively, "Maybe we can share some body fluids, too?"

A thick moan ground out of Grissom's chest, as one of his hands moved from her waist onto the flat plane of her belly. A moment later on thick finger had found its way inside her. "Absolutely…"

The word was lost on Sara as her mind went blank at his touch, and she sagged against him...

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

This one's short… and not terribly relevant in the scheme of all things GSR and CSI.

But whatever – just remember NOT beta'd

Fairly short, and clean this time around.

Thanks for the reviews…

You all are great!

**Interlude 23**

"Hey how's Cath?" Sara Sidle stood in the door to her husband's office and watched him as he hunched over a stack of files.

"You mean other than stubborn?" Worried blue eyes stared back at the young woman.

"You've known her for years, and it took you this long to figure that out." A smirk graced her face, and she moved a little closer to the desk; her hands hidden behind her back.

"Well, usually it doesn't cause me this much aggravation." Grissom dropped his pen on top of the pile and leaned back into his chair. His eyes traveled leisurely over his wife's grinning form and not for the first time did he thank his lucky stars and God that he'd come to his senses.

"What did she do?" Whatever it was, Sara was pretty sure the woman's reaction had to be motivated by guilt and maybe anguish over the loss of her father.

"You mean other than insisting that she be allowed to work tonight?"

"What?" Surprise etched itself in the brunette's pretty face.

"Yeah… she wanted to come in tonight." Exasperation was coming off of the nightshift supervisor in waves.

"You didn't let her, did you?" Sara moved forward and dropped a small bag she'd been carrying behind her back, in front of her husband.

"Let her? It's not like I had a choice, she threatened a certain piece of anatomy, and It's one both you and I am quite fond of…Aside from which there is no such thing as _letting _Catherine Willows do anything." Blue eyes glinted as Grissom reached over and stuck his hand into the bag, it reappeared a moment later with a dark plastic container. "What's this?"

"My world famous vegetarian chili…"

He stared at the container almost painfully. Concern was written all over his face, as he was assaulted by the memory of the last time he had her world famous chili. Aside from a severe case of gas, which could have caused its own lab explosion were someone to light a Bunsen burner within a hundred yards of him, he'd also been blessed with and extremely agonizing case of indigestion. "Ah… okay…" there was some serious reluctance in his words.

Sara grinned and passed him a second bag.

"And this is?"

The slim brunette simply nodded in the bags direction and watched as he reached in and pulled out a slice of warm garlic foccachia bread, and a value pack of Tums.

A light guffaw bounced around the office. "I see you remembered."

"Not that I think you'll need them. As I recall _you_ helpedme make it last time, and the fact that it was so hot most normal people would have internally combusted eating it, was entirely _your _fault. _You're_ the one who had to add copious quantities of chili powder… NOT ME…" She reminded him lightly.

"Right…" But that wouldn't help with the gas, he reminded himself. Then he told her this.

His comment caused a full out laugh to spring from Sara. "Work out in the field tonight then. No one will be the wiser."

"Easier said than done." Grissom indicated the piles of folders on his desk.

"I thought you finished most of it the other day." One slim hand reached out and sifted through the stacks.

"Me too. I think it's a conspiracy designed to keep me behind this desk." He threw a completed file on top of the smallest heap. "I swear my desk was almost empty this morning, and then I come back in and this is what's facing me."

"Poor Dr. Grissom…" There was a smile in her voice. "So what's on for tonight?"

Cath is already out in the field. Warrick has a case. Nick has a case and I sent Greg home because it looked like he was coming down with something and I don't want the whole lab getting sick. And in five minutes have to give a tour to a bunch of students, who are up past their bed time." Deciding that starving was worse than eating the dinner she'd brought him he cracked the top on the chili and grabbed a spoon from his desk.

"Okay where can I pitch in…?"

Grissom blew on the chili and indulged in a mouthful. I was good, he had to admit, but that was the problem. He tended to eat too much of it. He pointed to a pile of papers teetering on the corner of his desk. "These my dear are yours…"

"What?" A look of suspicion crossed his wife's delicate features and she was poised to argue the point when his pager went of…

"Gotta go…" He dabbed the corners of his mouth after gobbling down another spoonful, then was on his feet and moving around the desk.

"Wait you can't just leave me here with all of this paperwork while everyone is out in the field…"

"Aw… Poor Ms. Sidle…" Grissom grinned as he walked past her. "Just read them over for accuracy and I'll sign off on them." His word trailed behind him as he made his way down the hallway and towards the front desk.

"Just great…" she mumbled under her breath, and then dropped into the nearest chair. She was on her feet no less than three seconds later as an extreme wave of nausea sent her tearing for the bathroom.

TBC


End file.
